


Five

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys [133]
Category: Glee
Genre: Adoption, Babies, Biting, Blackmail, Bloodplay, Childbirth, Discussion of Abortion, Easter Eggs, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Implied Consensual But Unsafe BDSM, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Miscarriage, Pregnancy, Religious Conflict, Surrogacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:43:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2447411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five floors, five years, and five kids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five

**Author's Note:**

> After our long hiatus, and immediately on the heels of having major surgery, **david of oz** once again stepped up to undertake the not inconsiderable workload you see before you. Words cannot adequately express our gratitude for the years of professionalism and skill he has gifted us. Patch and Rav both agree that there would be no SOTB without David. We would also like to thank **separatrix** and **bicrim** for being first readers on this project.
> 
>  **Warnings:** Miscarriage/pregnancy loss; implied consensual but unsafe BDSM; surrogacy/adoption; biting/bloodplay; [non-biological sibling incest (in easteregged fic)]
> 
> Be sure to click on any links. Also, did we mention that this monstrosity is technically the _teaser_ for Six Weeks?

**February 2028**

Syd nearly leaves her hotel room without her ABA Midyear Meeting badge around her neck, but she remembers before the door closes completely, darting in to grab it off the sink and walking down the hall to the stairwell as she drapes it on again. The Stonewall Award Reception sounds like it's about the award, but past experience has taught Syd it will be about the award for approximately five minutes, if that, and then it will be about talking and eating and drinking. 

That's exactly what happens, and within twenty minutes, Syd has a glass of wine in one hand, moving from cluster to cluster of attendees. She notices him before he turns fully towards her, and Syd can't help but smile widely when his own badge flips just enough for her to read, as the conversation around them pauses. 

" _The_ Miles Brown?" Syd says, raising her wine glass ever so slightly. 

“The one and only,” _The_ Miles Brown replies flirtatiously, looking pleased. “And I’m addressing…?”

“Syd Beckett.” 

“Syd Beckett,” Miles repeats, then his eyes widen, along with his smile. “Wait. Finn Hudson’s World Famous Lesbian, Syd Beckett?”

“The original Eleven,” Syd confirms. “We finally meet.”

“Well, it is an honor, a privilege, and a goddamn pleasure to meet you,” Miles says, offering Syd his hand. 

“Likewise,” Syd says, taking Miles’ hand and shaking it. “It’s surprising we haven’t before now, really. You’re in Atlanta, right?”

“I’m like the wind, Syd Beckett. I blow in, I blow out, and you can’t predict me.” Miles grins even wider. “And yes, I’m in Atlanta.”

“So, wait,” Syd says, almost laughing as a thought occurs to her. “You might know some stories for me. They just won’t tell me some things.” 

“It’s possible,” Miles concedes. 

“Only possible?” Syd says, sighing with exaggerated disappointment. “It’s only that I’m sure at some point in his life, Kurt must’ve done _something_ that was not one hundred percent perfect.” She winks at Miles as she takes a sip of her wine. 

“Now, I wouldn’t exactly argue with that assessment, but let me see about setting up my WITSEC and I’ll get back to you,” Miles says.

Syd throws her head back and laughs. “Now I _know_ I have to get some details out of you,” she says. “Fair’s fair, right? You can’t withhold such secrets from a colleague.” 

“I’m just sayin’, I _know_ Kurt Hummel,” Miles says. “And, well, I always did kind of guess about Hudson, but Brass and Puckerman cockblocked me at every turn.”

“Oh, that I can believe,” Syd agrees, shaking her head a little and remembering how the two of them were for months after Finn came home. “But four kids and Kurt’s still not changed a single dirty diaper, so clearly he has things figured out.” 

“Yeah, the Moms never would’ve stood for that,” Miles laughs. “I changed plenty.”

“I think it’s a point of pride for all three of them, oddly,” Syd says. “And I suppose it’s something of a skill to cultivate, when you are a parent. Unless you’re Kurt.”

“Guess he _would_ manage to make it through without getting his hands dirty,” Miles says. “Now, they ever tell you about the time they wrapped my car in crepe paper? The whole damn car!”

“All of them? The entire car? No!” Syd shakes her head again. “I’m going to interrogate them. All I know is that Finn’s told me several times over the years that he has crepe paper skills.” 

“Now you know where it started,” Miles says.

“Oh, now I know exactly what we can do Fathers’ Day morning this year,” Syd says. “Excellent.” Syd finishes her glass of wine and inclines her head towards the bar. “If I ply you with a couple of drinks, maybe there’s more stories where that one came from?”

Miles laughs. “Oh, I like you, Syd Beckett, World Famous Lesbian. Hudson’d better watch it, or I’m stealing you.”

A few hours later, Syd waves to Miles and heads towards the elevator, already pulling out her phone and calling Finn. “Finn,” she begins as soon as Finn picks up, “you never told me Miles Brown was so funny.”

“Well, you know Kurt doesn’t like us to talk about Miles Brown,” Finn says, sounding groggy in a way that almost reminds Syd of his two years in Chicago. 

“Charming, too,” Syd says wryly. “I might just have to switch teams.” 

“You’re gonna hurt my feelings, talking like that,” Finn says. “You know I call dibs if you ever decide you want to try dudes.”

Syd laughs. “Which I’m sure would be a thrilling experience for both of us. When I get back home, though, you’re going to tell me more about some of these stories, starting with how you got the crepe paper skills, okay?”

 

**Late February 2028**

“I don’t know where my tie is!” Finn says, as the three of them get into the limo. “I thought it was with my suit, but it wasn’t. Do you have it?”

“Are you the one tying it?” Noah asks. 

“No.”

“Then why do you need it?” Noah says, grinning and gesturing to his pocket. 

“I thought I’d put it somewhere,” Finn explains. “I’m nervous, ok? Did we ever hear back from Neil? Are he and David going to be there? Do we know what party we’re going to after?”

“Yes, darling,” Kurt says. “Remember? They’re not seated that far away. This can’t be _that_ different than the Tonys.” 

Finn shakes his head. “I looked it up, and it’s _way_ bigger. Did you know most people don’t even _watch_ the Tonys? Isn’t that crazy?”

“ _I’m_ offended,” Noah says, pulling Finn’s tie out of his pocket and gesturing for Finn to lean forward. “Why wouldn’t you watch the Tonys?” 

“Last I checked, the Oscars never have cheering sections, even,” Kurt says. 

“Well, I don’t understand why people wouldn’t watch it,” Finn says, leaning forward and letting Noah tie his tie. When Noah finishes, Finn tilts his head a little further forward for his kiss. Noah grins and kisses him slowly, lingering long enough that Kurt’s hand runs through Finn’s hair and the limo comes to a stop. 

“Now you have to stop, boys,” Kurt says. 

“You wouldn’t make us stop at the Tonys,” Finn says.

“Yes, but we’re the visiting team here,” Kurt says. 

“K’s pulling out sports metaphors,” Noah says. “I guess we really should stop.” 

“If _Milk_ doesn’t win best original score, I’m staging a glee club–style storm out,” Finn says. “Just warning you.”

“I’ll be ready to record it, then,” Noah says as the driver opens the door, and he looks out for a moment before looking back at Finn and Kurt. “Holy shit, the red carpet’s a lot bigger.” 

“Look at all those cameras,” Finn whispers to Noah, putting his hand on Kurt’s back as he gets out of the limo. 

“Please tell me you two aren’t really going to cycle through that list you made?” Kurt asks quietly. 

“Entry number one,” Noah says. “Manny.” 

“Here to hold the umbrella out of the cameras’ line of sight in case of rain,” Finn says. “That’s number two.”

“Oh dear,” Kurt says, but he’s smiling as he says it. “Dare I ask what number five is?” 

“My favorite,” Noah says. “Hair stylist, and it’s so we can gush about how he can see the top of our heads!” 

They begin walking up the carpet together, pausing in front of photographers occasionally. Finn makes sure to flash a big smile as he stands behind them, his hands on their lower backs. He steers them to the E! interviewer and camera man. The E! interviewer starts off with the usual questions about what they’re wearing and what part of the show they’re most looking forward to, what they think their chances of winning are. 

Question number four is _the_ question, though: “And this must be the… brother? That we’ve heard so much about?”

Kurt smiles widely. “Oh, we quite like keeping him around.” 

“Personal trainer,” Noah says blandly. 

“Nice use of number nine, baby,” Finn whispers into Noah’s ear. 

Noah grins as they walk closer to the doors. “I thought so.” His grin fades a little. “Wait, is that guy over there looking where I think he is?” 

Finn looks over where Noah is facing. “If you think he’s looking at Kurt’s ass, then yes,” Finn says, glaring at the guy. “Hey! Hey you!”

Noah glares, too, and Kurt looks at them with eyebrows raised. “Darling, why are you snarling at Zac Efron?” 

“He’s checking out your ass!” Finn points his finger in Zac Efron’s direction. “I’m watching you, Efron!”

“You two can’t—”

“Yes we can,” Noah interrupts. “We definitely can glare at people who look at your ass too long.” 

“Noah’s right. We absolutely can,” Finn says. 

Before Kurt can protest any more, someone comes to usher them all to their seats. As they’re being seated, Finn spots Neil and David in the next row over, and he waves at them. Neil waves back, then holds his arms out like he’s rocking a baby, then puts his hands up questioningly.

“Hotel,” Finn shouts at them over the noise of the crowd. Neil and David both nod their understanding, and Finn mouths, “We’ll talk after.”

“Did you get your fill of your BFF?” Noah says teasingly. 

“I’m sure we’ll get to hang out at one of the after parties,” Finn says. “Asshole.”

Noah grins. “Don’t forget it, asshole.” 

They sit through almost three hour of awards that Finn doesn’t really care about before they get to the Oscar for original score. Finn reaches over and grabs Noah’s hand. 

“So what do they call it when you’ve won one of each?” Finn whispers. 

“EGOT,” Noah whispers back. “Only thirteen people have that.” 

“You’re going home with a GOT, at least,” Finn says. “That’s almost there.”

“Optimistic of you,” Noah says, then freezes for the camera pan. He still looks frozen when the pretty lady in the long blue chiffon dress opens the envelope and reads out “Noah Hummel.”

“That’s you, baby,” Finn says quietly. “Go on.”

Kurt whispers something from Noah’s other side, and Noah unfreezes after a few more seconds, standing up and walking up the aisle. After he accepts the Oscar, Noah stands in front of the microphone and frowns slightly. 

“I didn’t prepare any kind of speech, so can we all agree that it’s because of the six-month-old?” Noah says, which gets some laughter, and then he makes a decent speech before the music plays and he’s escorted off the stage. 

Finn leans over to Kurt across Noah’s empty seat and whispers, “If Nova stays asleep, we’re putting that Oscar on the bedside table while we fuck.”

Kurt laughs and then raises one eyebrow. “Are you sure we shouldn’t make him put it on a pillow in the middle of the headboard?” 

“Nah, too much distraction. You really want that kind of competition?”

“Hmm. You may be right,” Kurt concedes. “At least we’re somewhat interested in the last few awards? Otherwise we’d be regretting not sneaking off now and fucking _during_ the Oscars.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think the Oscars people would be as understanding as the Tonys people,” Finn says. 

_Milk_ doesn’t win for best adapted screenplay—some movie based on a novel does—or best director or actor. It’s a while before everything gets wrapped, and Finn and Kurt finally get pointed in the right direction to meet Noah. 

Noah looks like he’s ready to escape, and he slides between the two of them. “They don’t let you leave, here,” he whispers. “Did Aaron win?” 

“Nope. Michael B. Jordan for _March: The John Lewis Story_ , just like everybody predicted,” Finn says. “You’re our only winner!”

“You should congratulate me by sneaking me out of here before they decide to herd me somewhere else,” Noah says.

“You don’t think they’ll take your statue away if we leave?” Finn asks. 

“You can smuggle it out in your pocket for him, darling,” Kurt says. “And then tell him about your plans for once we make it back to the hotel, after the party.” 

“Good idea,” Noah says, pushing the Oscar towards Finn. “What are these plans?” 

Finn turns the Oscar upside down, tucking it into the waist of his pants, hidden under his coat. “Let’s bust out of here, and I’ll tell you on the way to the party.”

 

**September 2028**

“Do you have a couple of Bandaids?” Kurt asks, looking up from his desk. They’re at the Nederlander, taking care of a few things with _Milk_ , and Noah shrugs as he opens his desk drawer. 

“Yeah, here’s one,” Noah says without looking up, and he starts to hand it over. “Paper cut?”

“I need at least two,” Kurt says, slightly apologetic. 

“K,” Noah says with a sigh, even as he pulls out two more Bandaids. When he looks over, Kurt has his shirt pulled up slightly, starting to remove a pretty bloody gauze square. “You know I don’t want to see that.” He winces and hands the Bandaids to Kurt, then looks down at his desk. 

“You don’t mind the results.” Kurt finishes removing the gauze square and folds it together. It’s true, too, that the scars that result are something Noah doesn’t seem to have any problem with. 

“I don’t mind Finn’s tats, either, but I don’t go with him or do any aftercare, either,” Noah points out. “You know I don’t really want to think about it.” 

“It’s not really that big of a deal,” Kurt says with a sigh, and he opens the Bandaids, starting to apply them. He’s not actively bleeding, but it is in a place where he could start bleeding again if he moves the wrong way. 

“I know it’s not to _you_ , but it is to me,” Noah says. 

Kurt nods a little. He knows it is, for whatever reason, even though he rarely brings it up, and when he does, it’s usually only to Kurt. Of course, Kurt acknowledges, that might be a function more of seeing the visual evidence on Kurt, but he doesn’t know for sure. Kurt finishes with the Bandaids and takes all of the trash out of the office, depositing it in the hallway trashcan before going back into the office. 

“It’s still something that happens,” Kurt says quietly as he sits back down. 

“So is what Finn and I do together, but I don’t go broadcasting it,” Noah says. 

“Fair enough,” Kurt says, even though he isn’t sure it’s quite the same. He doesn’t know enough details about what Finn and Noah do when it’s just the two of them to know if he’d want to know, not want to know, or feel mostly indifferent. Of course, he’s equally unsure how much Noah knows beyond the deliberate scars, since most other ways of causing pain don’t physically show afterwards. 

“Thanks,” Noah says, the corners of his mouth turning upwards, and Kurt smiles in return. It is, Kurt supposes, not too big of a deal for him and Finn to keep it as private as possible—and Noah _does_ like the scars that come afterwards from time to time.

 

**July 2029**

_Closing_ a show isn’t something that they’ve done before, and there are fiddly things to discuss about it, which means more days at the theatre and consequently more interaction with the cast than they’ve had since rehearsal and the first few weeks after opening. On the positive side, Rachel doesn’t often turn up to see Jesse, so overall Noah doesn’t have a huge problem with it. 

One Thursday, Noah ends up sitting with Jesse and V2 in the back of the theatre, talking quietly. V2 asks about Beth’s first year of college, and Noah grins a little. 

“Yeah, she had a great year. I think she was worried that she’d be behind, coming into Penn from Lima, but like we all told her, she got into the program.”

“Which is it again?” 

“Dual major, international studies and economics. They had their own special dorm full of people who love foreign languages _and_ math,” Noah says, laughing. 

“Better her than me,” V2 says, laughing with him. Jesse looks puzzled, but that’s not entirely unusual for Jesse. 

Still, Noah decides he’ll be nice, because Jesse is competent and a good cast member, even if he has the unfortunate romantic association. “You okay?” he asks. 

“I didn’t realize you had family in Lima, too,” Jesse says. 

“Not really anymore, with Beth in college,” Noah says. 

Jesse nods. “I still think it’s funny how many of Rachel’s old glee club-mates ended up in New York, and working for you, no less. I suppose that makes sense, though, because of Kurt.”

Noah looks perplexedly at Jesse and shakes his head, not really sure why Jesse thinks it’s specifically Kurt. “Well, I guess it is almost everyone, one way or another,” he finally says. “Not Finn, of course, or Santana or Brittany. Sam. Quinn does sometimes, though.” 

“Or that kid with the mohawk,” Jesse says. “Puck, right? I wonder what happened to him.”

V2 starts laughing hysterically, much like she did when Rachel found out about the triad. “Oh my god, Noah!” she says. “What happened to that Puck kid with the mohawk!” 

“You’re shitting me, right?” Noah asks Jesse. 

“Is that a sore subject or something? I mean, I remember there had been some kind of drama about his tendency to get involved with other guys’ girlfriends,” Jesse says. 

“Dude,” Noah says, slowly shaking his head. “I was just talking about my daughter Beth? Who was adopted by Shelby Corcoran?” Maybe that will help Jesse make the connection. 

“Your daughter is the same Beth as Shelby’s Beth?”

“Beth is my biological daughter. Open adoption. She calls Quinn ‘Q’ because I had more contact with her before age nine or so,” Noah says. 

“So, is that how you met Kurt, then?” Jesse asks.

“I don’t think he understands, Noah,” V2 says, still laughing. 

“Picture _me_ with a mohawk,” Noah finally says. “I changed my name when Kurt and I got married. It was Noah _Puckerman_.” 

“Ohhhhh,” Jesse says. “I guess that does make a little more sense. The hair makes a big difference.”

“So all these years, huh?” Noah says. “You really didn’t realize?”

“I guess I’m better with names than faces. I would’ve remembered you if you’d actually been singing in the show, probably,” Jesse says. 

“No professional singing for me,” Noah says. “You…” he trails off and shakes his head. “Well, that’s different. Not realizing who you’re working for.” 

“I know! It’s so funny!” Jesse says. 

V2 keeps laughing and nods. “Oh yes. It’s _very_ funny.” 

 

**January 2030**

When the phone rings and Finn answers, the first thing Audrey says is, “It’s a Mom-rant. I need Kurt.”

Finn sighs, says, “Hi to you, too, Aud,” then hands the phone off to Kurt. Audrey can hear Kurt whispering something before he answers. 

“Hi, Audrey,” Kurt says. 

“Oh my _god_ , Kurt, you will not _believe_ her!” Audrey says. “If she tries to sell me on an in-state school one more time, I’m going to shave my head, like that singer from when you were in high school!”

“You _do_ have the head shape to pull it off,” Kurt says. “It’s probably not the prom look you’re wanting, though. Which school was it this time?” 

“Kent State. _Again._ Ugh, Kurt, how did you two _do_ it?”

“Get out of Ohio? Trust me, the lack of confidence she had in Finn wasn’t inspiring. Getting out because she thinks you’ll come back probably won’t work for you. _Is_ she still mad about your hair?” Kurt asks. 

“‘Oh, Audrey, I still can’t believe you cut off all that beautiful hair’,” Audrey says, mimicking Carole’s voice. “It’s like she forgot that it grows back.”

“Well, maybe Dad makes it easy to forget,” Kurt says dryly. “Did you get all of _your_ applications in?” 

“Of course. I _am_ your sister, after all!”

“Good girl.” Kurt sighs. “Hang in there. At least after a few more weeks, you can honestly end the conversation by pointing out that the application deadlines for in-state schools have passed.” 

“I swear she’d nitpick me to death if I sat still long enough,” Audrey says. “She actually spit on a Kleenex and tried to wipe off some of my eyeshadow the other day. I’m going crazy, Kurt. _Crazy_!”

“Hang on,” Kurt says, and there’s muffled talking for less than a minute before he speaks again. “Where did you want to go for spring break?” 

Audrey sighs. “Some of my friends were going to this resort in Mexico. Mom says I’m going to get kidnapped and sold into drug muling in Costa Rica.

“Can you get to the resort from LaGuardia?” Kurt says, sounding amused. 

“Is there anywhere I couldn’t get to from LaGuardia?”

“You have to spend a day on either side here,” Kurt says, “but we’ll make sure you have warm weather clothes, so you won’t have to try to hide that you’re packing them.” 

Audrey barely contains her squeal. “You’re the best, Kurt! Don’t tell Finn I said that, though.”

“I know that these things are fickle. And if you do decide to shave your head, leave enough time before spring break, so you don’t get a scalp burn,” Kurt says. 

“Maybe I’ll just get a tattoo. Do you think Finn will take me to his guy?”

“Happily and proudly,” Kurt says. “Let him know before you get here and he’ll make an appointment, I’m sure.” 

“Yay! Finn’s the best, too, and you can tell him I said that. Kiss my nieces and nephew for me!”

“I will. Hang in there, Audrey.” 

“Five more months,” Audrey says. “And don’t think that Noah didn’t tell me about your countdown.”

Kurt laughs. “You’re slacking, then. Ours was down to the day.” 

“I’ll start counting by day once the semester starts.”

“I’ll get Noah to send you the exact number. Math,” Kurt says with a short sigh. “Bye, favorite sister.” 

“Bye, one of my favorite brothers!”

 

**June 2030**

The first time Tina gets pregnant, she’s in her senior year of college, and the timing isn’t right. Yes, she and Mike are back together, and Tina likes to think that their relationship is better than ever. But her law school applications are due in two weeks, Mike is preparing for auditions for MFA programs, and Tina doesn’t think that pregnancy fits into any of that. If pregnancy doesn’t fit, then a baby definitely doesn’t. 

She doesn’t say anything to Mike for a full twenty-four hours, then tells him on a snowy patio. He looks as confused as she felt and still feels. “But— how?” 

“Nothing’s one hundred percent effective,” Tina says. “Someone has to fall into the one or two percent. It happens to be me this time.” 

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t want a baby at twenty-two. Do you?” Tina asks, and Mike shakes his head. 

“I don’t know if I could… what Quinn and Noah did was incredibly brave,” Mike says slowly. 

“No. Me either.” Tina feels quietly relieved that she was right, that she and Mike would be on the same page and come to the same conclusion. “So I’ll make an appointment then.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Mike says. “Unless you wanted to go alone or with someone else.” 

Tina shakes her head, and Mike kisses her before they go inside her dorm. The decision and the abortion itself are both simple, and neither Tina nor Mike has regrets about either. 

The second time Tina gets pregnant—the first _planned_ pregnancy—she tells Mike as soon as the test comes up positive and starts working on an online baby registry. When she starts to spot at five weeks and three days, she doesn’t panic, because the pregnancy website said a little light bleeding wasn’t out of the ordinary, especially after sex, which she and Mike are trying to have as much of as possible before the morning sickness hits. When the spotting hasn’t stopped by six weeks, though, she does start to worry a little. At six weeks, two days, Tina starts to cramp, and when she goes to the bathroom, the little liner she’d put in her panties for the spotting is saturated with blood. 

She and Mike rush to her obstetrician’s office, where her blood work indicates low levels of hcg and progesterone. Tina cries through the office visit and most of the night as her cramping and bleeding get worse. The next day, an ultrasound confirms what Tina already knows, that she’s miscarried. 

“What did I do wrong?” Tina asks Dr. Parrish, her obstetrician, Mike’s arm around her as she cries. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong. As many as twenty percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage,” Dr. Parrish says, “and the vast majority of those are not preventable. Most of these women will go on to have perfectly healthy subsequent pregnancies.”

“So there’s no reason not to try again?” Tina asks, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

“None at all. I’d recommend giving your body a little time to recover, but there’s no reason not to try again within the next few cycles, if you feel ready.”

They wait two months after the miscarriage to try again, and within two more months, Tina once again has a positive pregnancy test. She tells Mike right away again, but she doesn’t look at her online registry. Not yet. 

Her first appointment goes well, with promising blood work and an ultrasound that shows a barely-visible embryo, hanging out on the right side of her uterus and looking perfectly healthy. She breathes a sigh of relief, she and Mike kiss, and that evening, she pulls up her baby registry again, just to look at the items she’d put on there last time. She doesn’t add anything, but maybe after the next visit, she’ll start.

At the next visit, though, the ultrasound technician’s face changes from warm and open to neutral and still, and she doesn’t point anything out on the screen. Instead, she directs Tina to the lab for more blood work, and then Tina is sitting on the examination table with a Bandaid on her arm, her phone in her hand to text Mike as soon as someone, anyone, tells her something. When Dr. Parrish comes in, Tina knows right away the news isn’t good.

“I’m sorry, Tina,” Dr. Parrish says. “The ultrasound shows no growth in the gestational sac from the last visit, and your hcg levels haven’t increased like we would expect at this point in the pregnancy. I’m afraid that this points to a blighted ovum, a fertilized egg that implants, but doesn’t continue to develop.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Tina asks. “Can I take progesterone supplements or something?”

“At this point, since your body hasn’t started to miscarry on its own, I’m going to recommend either a course of misoprostol or a D&C. I don’t want to risk infection.”

“Are you sure I didn’t do something wrong?” Tina asks, beginning to cry. “I had an abortion when I was in college. Could that have—”

“No,” Dr. Parrish says firmly. “Absolutely not. There is nothing at all to suggest that abortion performed in a safe, legal facility has any effect on fertility or future pregnancies whatsoever. Nothing you’ve done has caused this. This is just an unfortunate, tragic series of events.”

Tina nods, trying to wipe her eyes. “Okay. Thank you. Can you explain more about my options?”

By the time Dr. Parrish has finished explaining the risks and benefits involved with both misoprostol and D&C, Tina decides that misoprostol sounds like the better option for her. She can miscarry in the comfort of her own apartment with Mike there, and at least have some small feeling of control in this uncontrollable situation. Within a few hours of taking the misoprostol, Tina begins to miscarry, and by the time she returns to her obstetrician’s office a week later, the ultrasound and blood work indicate a complete miscarriage. 

Dr. Parrish recommends waiting longer this time, giving Tina a chance to take supplements and rebuild her iron levels. She also suggests that Tina and Mike consider talking to a specialist, but Tina shakes her head. Not yet. The next time will go better, she knows it will, and if it doesn’t – well, they’ll deal with that if it happens.

This time, Tina and Mike wait nine months before trying again. She gets pregnant the first cycle they’re trying, but this time, she doesn’t tell Mike right away. It’s not until she’s had a second appointment and seen a healthy, growing embryo that she finally breaks down and confesses to Mike that she’s pregnant again. He kisses her and they go out to dinner to celebrate. 

At eight weeks, Tina starts to have an odd feeling. There’s nothing specific she can point to physically—no bleeding or cramping, nothing out of the ordinary—but something doesn’t feel right. By the beginning of the ninth week, Tina calls her obstetrician’s office and asks if she can come in to the office for an ultrasound. She admits she’s being paranoid, but they schedule her for the next morning anyway. She doesn’t tell Mike.

By now, Tina has learned how to read the faces of ultrasound technicians. “Just tell me,” she pleads, when the tech turns her face away from Tina.

“Dr. Parrish will talk to you,” the ultrasound tech says, then a nurse comes to escort Tina to a room.

“I’m so sorry, Tina,” Dr. Parrish says as she enters the room, and Tina immediately bursts into tears.

“But everything was fine!” Tina says through her tears. “We saw a heartbeat!”

“I know. The ultrasound technician wasn’t able to detect one this time.”

“Why does this keep happening? Why?”

“I don’t know the answer to that. We will do our best to figure it out,” Dr. Parrish says. “For now, we need to discuss your options for the situation at hand. We can try the misoprostol again, but it works best before nine weeks, and there’s still a chance you would need to have a D&C.”

“I’ll just schedule the D&C,” Tina says. “I need to talk to Mike.”

“I understand,” says Dr. Parrish. “I’ll give you the room for a bit, then Lauren will come in and talk to you about scheduling the procedure. If you need me, just press the green button on the wall, and I’ll come right back.”

Tina nods, and as soon as Dr. Parrish leaves the room, she pulls out her phone and calls Mike. “Mike? I’m at the doctor. It happened again,” she says, then begins to sob. “It happened again.”

They wait eighteen months after the third miscarriage to call the fertility specialist Dr. Parrish recommended. The specialist runs tests on Tina and even some on Mike, but no matter how much blood they draw or how much genetic testing they run or how many exploratory procedures they do, nobody in the specialists office can find a reason for Tina’s miscarriages. They prescribe progesterone supplements anyway, and within another three months, Tina is pregnant again. 

She doesn’t tell Mike this time. She carries the pregnancy like a secret, holding her breath every time she goes to the bathroom, afraid she’ll find blood. The dating ultrasound and two subsequent ultrasounds show a healthy, developing embryo, but Tina still doesn’t tell Mike or anyone else. 

The bleeding starts in her eleventh week of pregnancy, just a week before the date she had decided she would tell Mike. It’s heavier than with the first miscarriage, heavier even than the misoprostol-induced second miscarriage. Mike finds her sitting in the bottom of the tub sobbing, wearing one of his t-shirts, dark blood down her thighs. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she gasps. “I thought it would be different this time. I thought if I waited to tell you, it would be different.”

Mike calls an ambulance, and within two hours, Tina has had a blood transfusion and her second D&C, followed by an overnight stay in the hospital for observation. 

Tina takes every supplement that the fertility specialist recommends, first to help her recover and then to help rebuild her nutritional stores. They don’t try again for months, and Tina still doesn’t feel ready to try again when the doctor prescribes progesterone supplements again. She keeps charting, and takes the supplements during the second half of her cycle, because she doesn’t know what else to do. Three cycles later, she and Mike decide to try again. 

She knows she’s pregnant even before she can take a test. She’s been pregnant so many times that she swears she knows the moment there’s implantation. Tina keeps taking the progesterone, even though she’s not convinced it will help, and she takes a test on day sixteen. The positive result stares at her, again, and she calls the office. 

After a visit the next day, Tina doesn’t have that much choice about telling Mike, because the specialist is recommending bedrest. Tina’s read enough to know that it probably doesn’t make a difference, but there’s a little voice in the back of her head that says _it can’t hurt_. 

Tina holds her breath for weeks. She barely breathes during the ultrasounds, but the technician never goes quiet and somber. She works from a reclined position at home, and every time she goes to the bathroom, she winces preemptively. 

Something is different, though, because she doesn’t spot, and one morning she wakes up to a beaming Mike who is holding a danish ring with candles blazing, stuck all around it. 

“What? It’s not my birthday?” Tina says sleepily. 

“No, but it is fourteen weeks today,” Mike says, still grinning as he sets the danish ring down on the table she uses as a desk. 

“Oh!” Tina exclaims. “I’ve never— we made it?” She blows the candles out quickly, before the wax takes over the danish ring, and even though the second trimester is a huge milestone, Tina doesn’t really relax until she hits twenty weeks and the ultrasound still looks good. She’s taken off of bedrest with no problems, though her doctors require her to maintain pelvic rest. Tina doesn’t really mind, and Mike doesn’t either. At twenty-six weeks, enough people are prodding her that she revisits her baby registry. 

At thirty-two weeks, Tina asks for a scheduled C-section, just so she can _know_ that her baby will be okay, but Dr. Parrish gently refuses, while agreeing to increased monitoring after thirty-six weeks and discussion of induction starting at forty weeks. Tina doesn’t end up needing the discussion, because she wakes up in labor at thirty-eight weeks and four days, and Mike calls their montrice, massage therapist, and birth photographer. The montrice talks Tina through her early labor, monitoring the baby and making sure Tina stays hydrated. Around one in the afternoon, Tina, Mike, and the montrice decide it’s time to head into the hospital. Dr. Parrish arrives around three, telling Tina that she’s making good progress, and Tina sighs as Dr. Parrish leaves. 

“Remind me to tell Hannah she lied!” Tina tells Mike. Mike doesn’t laugh or argue, just nods. 

Eight hours after Tina arrives at the hospital, she starts feeling the urge to push, and she starts pushing without telling anyone while they wait for the nurse and Dr. Parrish to confirm, ten minutes later, that she’s at ten centimeters. Forty-five minutes after that, Tina roars as her baby slides out and his body meets air for the first time. Tina is still finishing her roar as he starts to wail, and Tina falls out of her squat onto the bed, arms outstretched. 

“Let me see him,” she says, starting to cry as his arms flail until they hit her chest. His eyes stare up at her, and Mike puts a blanket around her and the baby. “You made it! Hi!” 

Tina can hear Dr. Parrish talking, and Mike nods about whatever it is as he sits down beside her, one arm behind her back and his other hand brought up to run his finger down their baby’s face. Tina doesn’t really pay attention as she pushes out the placenta or even as Dr. Parrish examines her, too focused on Mike and their baby, and finally, after about an hour, everyone leaves the room, and it’s just the three of them. 

“We have to name him,” Mike reminds her, and Tina laughs. 

“‘Baby boy’ isn’t a good name?” 

“He’d end up being called B.B., and B.B. Cohen-Chang isn’t something we should inflict on our son.” 

“Good point,” Tina says, laughing again. “What about Xander?” Mike winces and shakes his head. “Sawyer?” Mike shakes his head again, still wincing. “Simon?” 

Mike starts to shake his head, then stops and nods. “Simon.” 

Tina smiles at Mike, then looks down again. “Hi, Simon. It’s really, really good to have you here.” 

 

**August 2030**

Syd knows from the moment that she picks up Eliza for their Saturday together that her instinct was more or less spot-on. Eliza’s got something to tell her, something she hasn’t told any of her fathers, and Syd supposes her task for the day is to make sure Eliza has a chance to tell her whatever it is. 

Eliza’s quieter than usual while they have breakfast, and the two of them head towards Lincoln Center to watch a rehearsal of one dance troupe or another. Syd still catches Eliza playing some of the music on invisible instruments, and she smiles to herself. Anyone who spends more than a few minutes with all of them ends up being curious about the biological relationships, even if most people have the good sense not to ask. Looking at Eliza and her imaginary playing, and even Syd sometimes starts to wonder if there’s some science they haven’t figured out, where Eliza absorbed some of Noah’s DNA—osmosis, maybe. 

It’s after they leave the Lincoln Center and head down towards Times Square, walking slowly through the crowds, that Eliza clears her throat. “Hey, Syd?”

“Yeah?” Syd says, not realizing at first that Eliza’s doing it, whatever it is, right there, a few feet away from the Naked Cowboy II. 

“When did you know?”

“When did I know wh— Oh.” Syd ducks around an oncoming tourist, taking that second. It makes perfect sense that Eliza wouldn’t really know how to tell them, both the same and somehow opposite of them. “Ten. I mean, I think I knew before that? But that’s when I knew what to call it and could say it, at least in my head.” 

Eliza nods seriously. “Exactly.” She’s quiet again for a few moments as they walk, then suddenly laughs. “I should have known sooner. I can remember noticing all the prettiest girls, even in preschool.” 

“Second grade, we were assigned ‘study buddies’ from fifth grade,” Syd says conspiratorially. “Mine looked like she stepped out of the American Girl catalog: blonde hair, braids. Her name was Britta.” Syd shakes her head. “I should have known by then, definitely. I still think my parents not realizing at that point was willful ignorance on their part.” 

“I _know_ it’s not as big of a deal as it was. Not now and not here. But it’s still different.” Eliza shrugs. “And I also know they’ll be supportive, but it’s not just them. I have a feeling that even with my grandfathers, my mom doesn’t really want a lesbian daughter.” She looks almost startled at the end of the sentence, and Syd grins at her wryly. 

“Didn’t actually say it before now, did you?” 

Eliza shakes her head. “Thought it plenty.”

“Yeah, it’s not the same,” Syd acknowledges. They continue walking, ducking in a few stores, and it isn’t until they’re stopped at a Starbucks that she picks the conversation up again. “Is this just between us for now?”

“You can tell them, I guess,” Eliza says slowly. “Except not all three at once. Tell one of them, then they can talk about it. It’s just that if it’s you and all three of them, the Peas might hear it or _I_ might hear it.” 

Syd laughs. “Sure.” She doesn’t snag any of them immediately; it’s not like Eliza has a girlfriend or something to make it a pressing conversation, so she decides just to take the first opportunity that arises, whenever that may be.

 

Eliza comes back from her day with Syd seeming more relaxed, enough that Noah notices. He doesn’t mention it to Eliza or anyone else, but on Wednesday morning, he goes down to Syd’s office before heading to the theatre. 

“Isn’t it early for you?” Syd asks him, and Noah shrugs before he responds.

“We’re not exactly burning the candle past the end of every night’s show anymore,” he says. “And no one’s waking up in the middle of the night.” He grins. “Well, none of the kids.” 

“If you three are waking up, it could be because of your age,” Syd says, trying to smirk at him. 

Noah laughs. “I know this one. Pot, kettle, black.”

“Fair enough. What’s up?” Syd asks curiously

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Noah counters. 

Syd studies him for probably a good ten or fifteen seconds before shaking her head. “You already knew.”

“I suspected, anyway,” Noah says. “Call it a hunch.” 

Syd snorts. “Or knowing your kid?”

“Yeah, okay, maybe that, too,” Noah concedes, grinning. “She’s good, though? No big worries?” 

“No, I think she just wanted someone a bit more…” Syd trails off, and it’s Noah’s turn to snort. 

“Similar?” He grins at Syd’s faintly exasperated expression. “I’m guessing she said it was fine to talk about it, at any rate.”

“She just asked me not to talk to all three of you at once. She didn’t want the Peas to overhear.”

“Yeah, that’s probably smart.” Noah shakes his head and starts to move towards the door. “See you in a few days, Syd.” 

“Later, Noah,” Syd replies, and Noah waves as he leaves. 

Noah doesn’t say anything that night, not to Eliza and not to Finn or Kurt, either, but after dinner on Thursday, when all of the kids go to bed easily, he decides it’s a good time to bring it up, all three of them lying on the bed in various stages of undressing. 

“Talked to Syd yesterday about Eliza,” Noah says without any real opening. 

“Yeah? What did Syd have to say?” Finn asks. 

“Eliza _did_ want to talk to her about something,” Noah says. “And she did tell Syd she could tell us, so no one’s breaking any confidences.” 

“Hmm,” Kurt says. “I suppose she is getting to an age where she’d want to occasionally talk to an adult woman.” 

“Was it what I think it is?” Finn asks. 

“Not exactly surprising, is it?” Noah says, nodding at Finn. “We probably shouldn’t tell her we already suspected. I guess it would be pretty weird if I had three lesbian parents and I was like, oh, no, I don’t like women at all.” 

“When you put it that way, it’s surprising she told Syd it was okay to tell us!” Kurt says. 

“Yeah, we’re such a lesbian-hating family,” Finn says. 

“I’m surprised Syd didn’t induct her into some kind of secret ritual,” Noah says, and Kurt snorts. 

“If it’s a secret, we wouldn’t know about it.” 

“We should check her for tattoos,” Finn says. “There’s probably something tattoo-related in the ritual.”

Noah grins. “No, that’s you. Are you trying to come up with an excuse for another one?” 

“Maaaaaaybe. Do I need an excuse?”

“Not really,” Kurt answers. “What were you thinking of?” 

“And where?” 

“Well, I don’t have any down my arms,” Finn says. “I was thinking maybe something to do with the kids.”

“You just like it when we trace them with our tongues,” Noah says. “But sure, we’ll back you up on the excuse.” 

“I’ll start thinking about it,” Finn says. 

Noah nods, then finishes getting undressed and lying on the bed. “So should we get Eliza a nice big flag?” 

“You should see if they still sell them on the same site you got that huge one in high school,” Finn says. 

Noah grins. “I’ll just make it more room-sized this time.” 

“Then she’ll know how much we love her and how proud of her we are,” Finn says, grinning back at Noah. 

Noah starts to respond, but Kurt holds up his hand. “I know this one—A-plus parenting.”

 

**September 2030**

Kurt lies back on the bed in Finn’s bedroom, certain that there’s a nice contrast between his skin and the dark sheets, and he puts his arms over his head, looking at Finn. 

“Is this good?” he asks, knowing the answer already. 

“Beautiful,” Finn says, starting like he always does by running his hands lightly over Kurt’s body, from head to feet. 

Kurt smiles and closes his eyes briefly before staring up at Finn again. “And what are you going to do to me?” 

“Anything you want,” Finn says, now running his fingertips along Kurt’s stomach. 

“I know,” Kurt says. “You always make me feel so good. Are you going to hold me down today?” 

Finn appears to consider it, then says, “Hmm. No. I think you’re going to be able to hold very still.”

“I don’t know. What if you’re biting me? I might squirm.” 

“If you squirm, I’ll hold you down.”

“Then I think you should bite me and see if I squirm,” Kurt says. 

Finn smiles and leans over, pressing his lips to Kurt’s collarbone, kissing him gently twice before opening his mouth and nipping at Kurt’s skin. “More?” Kurt nods. Finn bites down again, incrementally increasing the pressure with his teeth. 

“Harder,” Kurt says, barely moving his arm, just enough to cause the sheets to make a little noise as they move. Finn’s teeth sink in deeper, just starting to break the skin. Kurt arches up a little, putting one hand on the back of Finn’s head. Finn clamps down harder, his teeth cutting into Kurt’s skin as his hands move slowly over Kurt’s chest and arm. Kurt whimpers, then whispers “Other side.” 

Finn immediately stops, releasing Kurt’s skin, and kisses across his chest to the other collarbone, where he again takes Kurt’s skin between his teeth. Kurt nods and deliberately squirms, one hand still on the back of Finn’s head. Finn presses his body to Kurt’s, holding him still. Kurt tries to move again, shifting his weight. 

“More,” Kurt says. 

Finn bites harder. Both of his hands go to Kurt’s wrists, lightly wrapping around them. Kurt tries to move them, sliding across the bed, and he stares at Finn’s face. 

“ _More_ ,” Kurt repeats. 

Finn’s hands tighten as his teeth break through Kurt’s skin again. Kurt cries out and arches up as much as he can towards Finn, trying to pull his wrists down. Finn pins Kurt’s wrists to the bed, opening and closing his teeth against Kurt’s shoulder. 

“Yes,” Kurt says, still pulling his wrists against Finn’s hands. “Pin me down.” 

Finn pushes down harder, the little bones in Kurt’s wrists squeezing together. Finn lifts his head to look at Kurt for approval. Kurt can see the faint red tinge on Finn’s lower lip.

“Kiss me.” 

Finn’s mouth is immediately on Kurt’s, and Kurt can taste blood in Finn’s mouth as they kiss. Kurt struggles again while they’re still kissing. Finn responds by holding him down harder. 

“Bite my stomach,” Kurt says. “And keep pinning me down.” 

Finn nods and keeps his hands on Kurt’s wrists as he kisses Kurt’s chest down to his stomach, where he bites down again, sucking skin up into his mouth to get it between his teeth. Kurt wiggles, focusing on watching Finn’s mouth, and he whimpers again. 

“Squeeze my wrists harder,” Kurt says. “Make your mouth bloodier.” 

Finn’s hands tighten, Kurt’s bones grinding together, and he bites down hard on Kurt’s stomach, breaking through the skin and then releasing it to rub his mouth against the bite. He lifts his head to look at Kurt; his lips are stained red.

“Yes,” Kurt says, wincing at the feel of Finn’s hands on his wrists, and he looks to either side, gauging how much more pressure his wrists can take. He waits as long as he can, then whispers “Stop.” 

Finn stops without a moment’s hesitation, his hands opening. Kurt smiles and slowly runs one hand across the bite on his stomach, smearing some blood across his skin. 

“Fuck me,” he says firmly. “Fuck me and make us both messy and bloody.” 

Finn smiles down at Kurt. “Anything you say, bossofme.”

 

**October 2030**

Noah would never claim that he and Finn come up with particularly subtle schemes, but when Kurt sinks down onto the bed, still between the two of them, Noah’s pretty sure that Kurt doesn’t mind the attempt. 

“So what _do_ you two want?” Kurt asks after a few moments, one hand on each of them and eyes still closed. “The answer is probably yes.” 

“You might want to hear all of it first, blue eyes,” Noah says. 

“I want a Noahbaby,” Finn says.

“A… you two want another baby?” Kurt says, opening his eyes and looking startled but not all that surprised. 

“And we’re going to name her Leaf,” Noah says. “Isn’t that a great name?” 

“Leaf was his idea, but I think it’s pretty,” Finn say. “And she’ll be a Noahbaby.”

“How, exactly, are you planning to get a… Noahbaby?” Kurt asks. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been reading about experimental genetics again, darling.” 

“No!” Finn says, then he looks a little guilty. “Well, ok, I was a little, but not for this. This is just a regular came-from-Noah baby.”

“We thought it couldn’t hurt to ask Audrey, right?” Noah says. “We’re good at not putting too much pressure. Unless Finn makes sad faces.” 

“I won’t make sad faces at Aud,” Finn says.

“You probably would,” Kurt says. “But no, I don’t suppose it hurts to ask, and—” Kurt cuts himself off and sighs. “Did you two just talk me into it?”

“Not a lot of talking, actually. Maybe we fucked you into it,” Noah says, grinning at Kurt. “Don’t you want another baby? We make cute babies.” 

“A Noahbaby, Kurt,” Finn says, practically squealing it, just like he did when he first brought it up with Noah. “A _Noah_ baby! We don’t have one of those!”

“That’s true,” Kurt says, smiling at Finn and then at Noah. “She’d actually be related to all three of us, if Audrey agrees.” 

“Exactly. Plus, Finn loves babies,” Noah says, grinning at Finn. 

“Oh, yes, he does.” 

“I do,” Finn says. “And I love you, and I love _our_ babies.”

“We’ll talk to Audrey,” Kurt says. “You two do realize that means we’ll have _five_ kids? Living here, I mean.” 

“House is big enough,” Noah says blandly. 

“Big enough if the Noahbaby turned out to be Noahtwins, even,” Finn says. 

Kurt winces a little. “Let’s not tell Audrey you’re rooting for twins when we ask her.” 

 

**November 26, 2030**

Finn knows they’re hiding something. He’s tried to not be paranoid, but he knows what they’re like when they’re keeping something a secret, and that’s definitely what’s been going on. He’s also tried not to second guess everything currently going on in their lives, because he knows that he can tie himself up in knots over nothing sometimes. 

It’s their Tuesday, and they’ve been in a luxury cabin up in the Catskills all weekend, and he _still_ feels like they’re hiding something. Finn wakes up and looks around the bedroom, feeling reassured when he sees they’ve still managed to somehow sneak bouquet after bouquet of flowers into the cabin.

After just a few moments, the bedroom door opens, and Noah and Kurt come in with a tray of food, a tray with juice and coffee, and a folder tucked up under Kurt’s arm. “Happy Tuesday, darling,” Kurt says. 

“Happy Tuesday,” Noah says, setting down the food tray and sitting down beside Finn. 

“Happy Tuesday to you, too,” Finn says, sitting up to take the coffee from the tray. “You know, one of these days I’m going to wake up on a Tuesday before you and spoil all your plans.”

“Nope,” Noah says, kissing Finn’s neck. “That’s why we drug you every year the night before. It’s the only way we can beat you out of bed.” 

“That’s… not exactly true,” Kurt says, but his coffee mug is large and very full. 

“Maybe it’s just the one night of the year I sleep the soundest,” Finn says. “I remember I’m home.”

“It is a good thing,” Kurt says, nodding. “And maybe you like being surprised by an ever-increasing number of flowers every year.” 

“We have an actual surprise this year, though,” Noah says with a grin. 

“Yeah,” Finn asks, a little nervously. “What’s the surprise?”

Kurt smiles and takes the folder out from under his arm, holding it for a moment before handing it to Finn. “Here. It just needs your signature in a few places.” 

Finn opens the folder. The document on top reads ‘Petition for a Name Change’ in large letters across the top. Underneath, Kurt and Noah’s names are listed along with Finn’s, first with their current names, then with a different last name for all three of them: Hudson-Hummel.

“Guys?” Finn asks softly. “For real? All three of us?”

“Don’t you think it’s about time we moved out of the ‘very open secret’ category?” Kurt says. “And we have the paperwork for Harvey as well. The girls…” He trails off and shrugs. 

“We probably will need to do some kind of press when it all goes through,” Noah says. “If you sign it, I mean.” 

“ _If_?” Finn asks. “Pen. Where’s a pen?”

Noah laughs and looks in the drawer of the bedside table. “Hopefully it’s not been in the cabin for ten years,” he says before handing it to Finn. “Good surprise?” 

“Yes!” Finn says, laughing. “Yes, it’s the best surprise! Completely public?”

“K’s right. It’s past time we did,” Noah says. 

“And our names will reflect how things actually are,” Kurt adds. 

“You know I’d have changed it to Hummel, if you’d asked,” Finn says. “I mean, I _love_ our new name, but I would have.”

“Yeah, but this way I have the best name,” Noah says smugly. 

“I love you,” Finn say. “Everything is so perfect.”

 

**December 2030**

The first night of Hanukkah turns into a night of pass-the-barely-two-weeks-old-twins, which is enjoyable for everyone, but Noah wonders if it’s especially nice for Hannah, since she actually has a few minutes that she’s not holding a baby or nursing one. 

“What do you think of your cousins?” Noah asks Nova while he’s holding Saffron. 

“Tiny!” Nova says, and Noah laughs. 

“Yeah, but Aunt Hannah grew ’em pretty big, for twins.”

“Going to have any more?” Kurt teases Hannah at one point, and everyone laughs. Stevie makes a face of mock-horror, and Hannah shakes her head. 

“I think four pregnancies is enough, don’t you?” Everyone laughs again, and the conversation flows on, but Noah realizes about ten minutes later what, exactly, Hannah had said. 

Four _pregnancies_. Not four births. Not four babies. 

Later, Hannah goes into the kitchen, and Noah hands off the twin in his arms—Jonquil, this time—to Kurt before following her. 

“Hey,” Hannah says. “I just thought I’d make sure you had everything for tomorrow night’s dinner.”

“Four pregnancies?” Noah asks quietly. 

“Yeah.” Hannah makes a face. “Thought you might’ve caught that.”

“Syd or Tina?”

Hannah laughs. “Tina.”

“C’mere.” Noah hugs her. “Thankfully we had women around for you.”

“You did good,” Hannah says. “Really. I should have told you before now, I guess, but at the time…”

“No, it’s probably good you didn’t tell us then,” Noah agrees. “We all made it through, though.” 

“There are definitely a few years in there I don’t think any of us particularly want to repeat. You did good.” Hannah smiles wryly. “Don’t think I can’t pick out the background in some of those stories you and Finn tell about when I was a baby, Noah.”

Noah shrugs. “Mom tried. And I know she did pretty well after we left Lima.” 

“She did.” Hannah nods. “But Noah, I’m going to be a good parent because I had three good examples of parenting. The three of you.”

“We do our best,” Noah says dismissively.

Hannah snorts. “You never were good at false modesty.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Noah grins. “Okay, we’re fucking awesome. Every kid should be so lucky as ours.”

“That’s more like it.” Hannah laughs, then sighs as they can hear one of the twins start to cry. “Duty calls.” 

“At least you don’t have to warm it up first,” Noah points out. 

“Well, true,” Hannah says wryly. “Just feed two at once. I know Nana swears up and down twins don’t run in the family, so how’d I manage that one? I’m not exactly suffering from advanced maternal age.”

“Well, we are pretty spectacular,” Noah says, gesturing with one hand. “Your body knew you had to do _something_ to appear even half as awesome.”

“Dammit, you’re probably right,” Hannah concedes. “Back to the nursing chair.”

Noah chuckles and watches Hannah head back to the living room. She doesn’t really look like she recently gave birth to twins. Noah thinks it’s probably good for her and Stevie, in the end, that they had the two kids they were planning on all at once. Especially since they didn’t try to poach Safiya, who probably never planned on working for one family for so many years. 

While he’s in the kitchen, Noah grabs a handful of beers and takes them back out into the living room, where the older kids are attempting to play dreidel while Nova tries to take all of the chocolate, and Noah stops to kiss the top of her head. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “Always go for the chocolate first.”

 

**January 2031**

Sometimes Finn isn't sure if Kurt picked the dark sheets to contrast with his skin or to hide the bloodstains from the bites from Noah. They definitely serve both purposes, Finn acknowledges, especially when Kurt keeps pushing him further and further, to the point that sometimes Finn isn’t sure Kurt even has a limit. He picks his glass up from the bedside table, where it’s sitting next to the kit, and takes a drink. 

“Slow down, Finn,” Kurt says, glancing at the glass.

“I will,” Finn says. He sets down the glass and takes his hand away. “See?”

Kurt smiles. “I know, darling.” 

“What can I do for you now?” Finn asks. 

“Why don’t you start with being inside me?” 

“I can do that,” Finn says. He quickly slicks his cock and pushes Kurt’s legs back, sliding into him. “Now what can I do?”

“Twist my arm,” Kurt says. 

Finn takes Kurt by the wrist and gives his arm a slight twist. Kurt lifts off the bed slightly, tilting to one side, and nods. Finn twists it more, thrusting into Kurt again. 

“Good?” Finn asks. 

“Of course,” Kurt says, his voice catching a little. “More, darling.” 

Finn twists Kurt’s arm more, almost jerking it up above Kurt’s head. Kurt gasps, his head tilting back, and he wraps his legs around Finn. 

“Other one too?” 

Finn hesitates for a second. “Both?” he asks, just to be clear, because usually it’s just one at a time. 

“If you can,” Kurt says, nodding. 

“Of course I can, if that’s what you want,” Finn says, taking Kurt’s other wrist in his hand and slowly pulling Kurt’s arm upward and twisting. 

“Oh, fuck,” Kurt says, almost whispering, and his legs tighten around Finn. “Yes. That. Keep fucking me harder. Not faster.”

Finn does what Kurt says, thrusting into him harder without increasing his speed, still holding Kurt’s arms up above his head.

“Put one under me,” Kurt says, his voice catching again. “My right arm.” 

Finn move Kurt’s arm down, bending it to slide behind Kurt’s back. He keeps watching Kurt’s face to make sure it’s just right, and Kurt’s shoulder has started to change shape slightly before Kurt says, “Stop.”

Finn stops, not moving Kurt’s arm even a hair more. Kurt’s smile is somewhat pained, but he pushes into Finn’s thrusts, not saying anything else for a few moments. 

“Twist my left arm until I scream.” 

Finn yanks up on Kurt’s arm, twisting it at the same time, and Kurt bites his lower lip as he nods. Kurt isn’t screaming yet, so Finn keeps twisting, carefully watching Kurt’s face. Kurt’s face contorts and his body shakes slightly. Kurt’s shoulder strains at the joint in a way that would make Finn cringe if it weren’t exactly what Kurt wanted, _exactly_ what Kurt wants. 

Kurt seems to hold his breath for four or five seconds, his entire body shaking, and then he screams, his eyes closing. Finn watches Kurt’s face to make sure that Kurt has exactly what he wants, in exactly the right amount, he lets himself come, thrusting hard into Kurt, keeping the pressure on Kurt’s arms consistent. 

“Stop,” Kurt whispers, and Finn immediately releases Kurt’s wrists. Kurt comes a second later, moaning instead of screaming, and when he’s still, he lies there for several seconds before opening his eyes and smiling at Finn. 

“Was it good?” Finn asks. 

“So good,” Kurt says. “I think I’m going to be sore tomorrow. Maybe the day after.” 

“It wasn’t too much?”

Kurt shakes his head. “It was exactly what I wanted.” 

 

 **February 2031**

Once they have every official document with their new name, except for their passports, Noah assumes they should make their own press before some Broadway gossip site makes it for them, so two weeks after their revival of _Rent_ opens, he calls Quinn one Thursday morning, listening to the phone ring twice before she answers. 

“Quinn Perrin-Fabray,” Quinn answers in a brisk, professional tone. 

“Hey, Q,” Noah says. “How’re your conquering preschoolers?” 

“Noah! Hello! They’re wonderful. Joseph’s ready to start kindergarten. He says he knows everything they teach at preschool.”

“He might. Char was pretty convinced she and Harv should have started kindergarten the year Eliza started first grade,” Noah says. “But I actually did call during normal people’s work hours for a reason. We need a press release.” 

“New show?” Quinn asks.

“Less business, more personal,” Noah says. “Name change.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re missing the ‘Puckerman’?”

Noah laughs. “Haven’t missed it yet, and Hannah doesn’t seem to be missing it either. No, we all went to ‘Hudson-Hummel’.” 

“Oh! Congratulations!” Quinn says. “I guess that’s about as close as you can get to a triad marriage, adding the name change to everything else. What kind of press release were you looking for?”

“Yeah, pretty close,” Noah agrees. “Since we’re changing all the legal documents, it does have to cover the shows and Finn’s practice, but really it’s just changing everything from ‘very open secret’, as Kurt put it, to out in the open.” 

Quinn laughs. “Well, that’s all I needed to know: tactful versus guns blazing! When did you want it to hit?”

“Q, the only one of us that could be called tactful is Kurt, and he’s not exactly subtle,” Noah says with his own laugh. “We’re not tied to any kind of schedule. Sooner rather than later, since everything’s gone through.”

“I can drop it on a Monday and you can be the focal point for all of Broadway’s gossip for the week, or I can release it on Friday, and give you the weekend.”

Noah grins to himself. “Let’s go with a Monday, then.” 

“I should have guessed,” Quinn says, laughing again. “Let Kurt and Finn know it’s going to be a busy Monday for them!”

“Thanks, Q,” Noah says. “Bring Mason the next time you’re out our way, he and Nova can hang out in the Park for awhile.” 

“I’ll do that. You can email me any details you’d like included, and I’ll send you the final before it goes public.”

“Sounds good,” Noah says. He laughs to himself at the idea of not warning Kurt or Finn, but Kurt will want to be well-dressed, and will probably want them to be ready to put on a little bit of a show. 

“Keep an eye on your inbox, then!” Quinn says, ending the call. 

 

**March 2031**

Like anytime that any of them have seen Audrey through the years, Kurt feels like he’s going on a much longer trip. In this case, he’s just taking the train to Hartford to visit her for the day, but he has more with him than some weekend trips require. Her clothes and other things don’t have to get filtered through Carole any more, at least. 

When he arrives, he takes a taxi to Trinity’s campus, then sends Audrey a message while he tries to figure out which brick building is the one that he’s looking for. He shifts one bag to his other hand and brushes off a bench before sitting down. Audrey’s never really forgiven Carole and Burt for the estrangement, which is part of the reason why it’s Kurt who helped her make her plans for spring break and not either of them. It’s also why Kurt knows he needs to make sure Audrey doesn’t agree just to irritate Carole. 

“Kurt!” Audrey calls out before he spots her. 

Kurt looks around and then stands. “Hi, favorite sister.” 

Audrey rushes to Kurt and put her arms around him. “So, what’d you bring that’ll bug Mom the most this time?”

“Other than all of your travel plans for spring break?” Kurt asks as he returns the hug. “There’s one of those _un_ tasteful swimsuits she hates so much.” He tsks and smiles at Audrey. “So much fabric, Audrey, are you sure you didn’t like the skimpier ones?” 

“I get bad enough sunburns as it is, Kurt. I can’t wear one of those barely-counts things like you! I’d be bright red.”

“You should ask Finn how he handles that,” Kurt says, picking up the bags again. “Find you a nice boy to help out. Or girl, or nonbinary person. Whomever you like best that day?” 

“That’s the trick, huh?” Audrey says, laughing. “I need my version of you and/or Noah.”

Kurt shrugs. “Two is good. Lead on, though, because I think you forgot I’m the _cold_ brother.” 

“Poor Kurt. You should ask Nana to knit you some sweaters.”

“No, she has to keep making doilies,” Kurt says with a shake of his head. “Did you find out about the summer yet?” 

“In a couple of weeks. I made it to the final round,” Audrey says. 

“Congratulations.” Kurt follows Audrey to one of the brick buildings. “And did that one professor get any easier to deal with yet?”

Audrey sigh. “No. He’s still stuck up about digital media. He says it ‘lacks authenticity’.”

“Ask if he’s willing to debate someone with many awards in the entertainment industry, and we’ll send Noah up for the next visit,” Kurt says. “He loves a good soapbox.” 

“He’d just accuse me of using my famous relatives to show off.”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that, either,” Kurt points out.

“There is if you’re Dr. Baldwin,” Audrey says. “He’s such a snob.”

“Sour grapes?”

“Have _you_ ever heard of Dr. Baldwin, besides from me?”

Kurt smiles widely. “Absolutely not.”

“There you go, then.” Audrey grins. “So, why’d you bring all this now? Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing you, but you could have given it to me when I was flying out.”

“Too clever,” Kurt says. “It’s good to know the Hummel is strong. I _do_ have a question for you.” 

“Should we sit down with a cup of coffee for this?” Audrey asks. 

“Probably,” Kurt admits. 

“Okay, I’ll put some on,” she says, opening the door into her dorm building and leading Kurt to a room at the end of the first floor. 

Kurt looks around curiously. “I don’t think this looks all that different from the dorms Zachary and V2 were in years ago,” he says. “Dorm rooms must be one of those things that rarely change for freshmen.” 

“Why change what works, right?” Audrey says. “They’re just containment boxes for the first year, anyway. I’ll move into an apartment next year, if I can swing it.”

“I don’t know of anyone who would put together Ikea furniture for you, or help you outfit the kitchen, or any of that,” Kurt says, one eyebrow raised. 

“Just send Finn. He loves assembling stuff.”

“Oh, yes.” Kurt sets down the bags on Audrey’s bed and sits down in a chair. Audrey pours water into the small coffee pot and starts it brewing. 

“Wait for the coffee or go ahead and ask?” Audrey asks. “Wait, nobody needs bone marrow or something, right?”

“No one’s sick,” Kurt says. “But it does… well, it does involve biological processes.” He crosses his legs and looks directly at Audrey. “It’s genuinely a question. ‘No’ is absolutely allowed, but we did want to ask. Would you be willing to consider acting as a surrogate?” 

“Oh, Kurt, wow, that’s a _big_ question!” Audrey says. She pours cups of coffee for both of them, then sits down next to Kurt. “The kind like Hannah was? Or did you find someone for an egg?”

“I know it’s a big question,” Kurt says, nodding a little. “And yes, like Hannah was.”

“Wow,” Audrey says again, looking a little stunned.

“Like I said, ‘no’ is absolutely okay to say, and I don’t need to leave with an answer.”

“Okay,” Audrey says, nodding. “I’ll definitely need to think about it. I’ve got school and… that’s just a big question. Like really big.”

Kurt nods again. “I did ask Hannah if she’d answer any questions, if you had any, and she said that was fine. She also told me that bluntly was the best way to bring it up.”

“She’s probably right. Okay. Wow. I’ll talk to her.”

“And now you can show me around and, in fact, use your famous relatives to show off.”

 

**April 2031**

Hannah has been waiting for a call from Audrey for almost a month, so when her phone lights up with Audrey’s name one Wednesday afternoon, she’s not surprised, and she heads into her office and closes the door before answering. 

“Hey, Audrey!” 

“Hi, Hannah,” Audrey says. “I guess you know what I’m calling about.”

“I do, and I’m also guessing that you haven’t decided to flat-out say no, since you are calling,” Hannah says. 

“I haven’t decided yet. I’ve been going over and over it, but I can’t just say no.”

“What’s your biggest concern?” Hannah asks gently. “If you can’t resolve that one, that’s your answer, but if you can, then you can look at the smaller ones.” 

“How do I get past the fact that it would be my baby?”

“That one took me awhile, even though it was all my idea,” Hannah admits. “I read a lot of stories, and all the comparisons to adoption weren’t exactly helpful, since the only adoption I’ve ever seen up close is my niece, you know? I finally had to separate out the idea of my egg and their baby. The genetic material was mine, and I got a pretty amazing bonding experience with my nephew and my niece, but I couldn’t really think of it ever as my _baby_.” 

“But _how_? How do you separate it?”

“It helped when I saw how little sleep they were getting afterwards,” Hannah says wryly. “I think who you use as a care provider makes a big difference, too. Val was great about saying ‘the baby’ or ‘your niece or nephew’ or something like that.” 

“I don’t think I could do it at home like you,” Audrey says. “I think it would be too scary for me.”

Hannah laughs. “Which is funny, since _your_ birth is the entire reason I started looking at homebirth. I don’t think they’d expect you to, though. Just whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

“Dad said it was scary for him.”

“Any time things don’t go according to plan it can be a little scary. At least you weren’t twins,” Hannah says. “I didn’t have any scans with Harvey or Nova, but I know for some people it makes them less anxious and worried.” 

“I’m not even sure if I want to have my own kids,”Audrey says. “But they love kids.”

“Nieces and nephews are definitely more fun and less work, even with the upfront investment. And yeah. They do. It’s actually likely a good thing _they_ can’t reproduce on their own, or they’d have outgrown that house already.” 

“What would happen if I changed my mind?”

“You know your brothers wouldn’t really fight you, if that’s what you really wanted. There’d still be biological ties, though, and consequently some legal ones. I never signed any kind of specific agreement, which may have been an oversight on all of our parts, but it worked out,” Hannah says. 

“What did you tell people? What would _I_ tell people?” Audrey pauses for a second. “Ohhh, my mom will be so pissed.”

“I told my closest friends ahead of time. Other people I told as it came up. I did get a shirt that said ‘SURROGATE’ with Nova,” Hannah admits. “But remember, I reconnected with Stevie while I was as big as a house with Harvey.” She pauses and laughs. “Yes, your mom would probably be very pissed.” 

“Is it bad that that’s a big factor? In a positive way?”

Hannah winces a little even as she laughs again. “Don’t make it the deciding factor, anyway. They really are trying to make sure you don’t feel too much pressure.” 

“I know. I can actually hear Finn physically restraining himself from asking me any time I talk to him,” Audrey says. “It’s funny.”

“He wants a Noahbaby. That’s what he says,” Hannah says. “But it’s good he’s managing.” 

“Oh my god!” Audrey says.

“What is it?” 

“I just realized I’d be giving birth to my best friend’s little sister!” Audrey says. “Or brother, I guess, though apparently Kurt is the only one who can make a Y, according to Finn.”

“They’re pretty convinced of that, yeah. And… yeah, I guess you would be! That’s one way to tell people.” 

“Maybe I’ll talk to Beth about it some more. It’s not like she hasn’t heard all about it forty times already, right?”

“I’ll give Beth’s number to Ana,” Hannah says. “I think sometimes it was harder on Ana than on me!” 

“You always made it look so easy,” Audrey says.

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

Hannah laughs. “Like I said, harder on Ana than on me.” 

Audrey sighs loudly. “Okay. I’ve got a lot more thinking to do. I might call you again. Maybe a few times.”

“That’s fine,” Hannah says. “Any day but Monday.” 

“Thanks, Hannah.”

“No problem, Audrey. Oh, and I’m sure that if you do say yes, Kurt can probably help you come up with something great as far as your mom.” 

“Oh, I bet he can,” Audrey agrees. “Bye, Hannah!”

 

**Late April 2031**

Finn has to make a conscious effort to not make a sad face at Audrey as he, Kurt, and Noah sit at the table with her. If she’s decided against being a surrogate, there’s no way Finn would ever try to guilt her into it, so he keeps his face still and not, he hopes, too enthusiastic about the possible answer.

“So…” Audrey begins.

“We should have had you write down and seal it in an envelope, and Finn could have practiced for the Tonys,” Noah says. 

“Yeah, or the excitement could’ve killed him,” Audrey says. “Look at him. He looks like he’s trying hold in his pee.”

“This is my neutral face!” Finn insists. 

“You do look a bit strained, darling,” Kurt says. 

“Fine. It’s my _pretending_ to be neutral face!” Finn says.

“So, I have some conditions,” Audrey says loudly. 

“Conditions are fine,” Noah says. “What are they?” 

“First of all, we have to do it in some kind of professional facility. I love you guys, but I’m not touching any of your bodily fluids, and I’m not asking Beth to do that, either.”

“Ok, we can do that, that’s fine,” Finn says. “What else?”

“But Beth does have to be there for the birth part. No exceptions. You have to get her here,” Audrey says.

Noah nods. “Also fine.” 

“And I’d do the birth part at a birth center, not here.”

“We’d want to make sure the center was familiar with surrogacy and with all of us being in the room, but otherwise that shouldn’t be a problem,” Kurt says. 

“Of course,” Audrey says. “And, I’m sorry, but I can’t do what Hannah did and pump for months and months. I know breastmilk is important, but I think it’s just better for my mental health if I don’t. I can do it for the first few days, for the whatsit.”

“Colostrum,” Finn says. “They have milk banks. We can make it work.”

“Charlie was mostly formula after awhile, too,” Noah says. “That’s fine.” 

Kurt nods. “It would be more difficult even if you really wanted to, logistically, anyway.” 

“And _I_ get to tell Mom, but you have to be there,” Audrey says. 

Kurt looks both amused and pleased. “When do you want to tell her?” 

“I guess that depends on when we do it. I was thinking we should try as soon as possible, if we can get it set up, but I’d want to put off telling Mom as long as possible.”

Noah looks thoughtful for a few moments, then nods. “If everything goes as smoothly as possible, maybe Thanksgiving?” 

“That works,” Audrey says. “So I guess this is a yes.”

“Hear that, darling?” Noah says quietly, nudging Finn’s side. “You can stop pretending to be neutral.” 

“Oh my god, Aud, thank you, thank you!” Finn says, smiling big enough that he probably looks like a crazy person. “A Noahbaby!”

“Yes, thank you, Audrey,” Kurt says, smiling at her and then Finn and Noah. “Five kids.” 

“Number five! Fiver!” Finn says happily.

“Like the psychic rabbit?” Audrey asks. “Really, Finn?”

“Yep, exactly like that,” Finn says. “Seriously, Audie-Aud, you’re the best sister in the world.”

“Yeah, yeah, I bet you say that to all the sisters who agree to give you a baby,” Audrey says. 

Finn laughs. “Technically speaking, this might be true.”

“Wow. So, I guess we’re all making a baby!” Audrey says. 

Noah grins and then whispers to Finn, “Trust me, it’d better be a group effort.” 

 

**July 2031**

Finn kisses Noah one more time on the top of his head. “You’re my good boy.”

Noah doesn’t respond verbally, tucking his head against Finn and closing his eyes with a little nod. Finn’s arms wrap around him, and Noah lets out a deep, content sigh. He’s not sure he could put into words a good way to explain what he and Finn sometimes have together, because the easiest explanation sounds like something it’s very much not. 

It’s easier to think about what it’s not. It’s not any kind of BDSM thing. It’s not some kind of infantilization thing, either. If anything, Noah thinks, it’s just the sexual component of [a dynamic they’ve had for a very long time](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1w4XOSZ6ynxNnXpRtLmr23OsDjwVxhcWXgPCYHqgC-PM/pub). 

Two little boys, and it’s a little bit the legacy of Carole making Finn be the ‘man of the house’ too early, because once Zeke left, Finn had been the only person who could make Noah even think about reconsidering doing something. Rina had never been able to really hold him in check. Eventually, Noah’d mostly started doing it for himself, but there’s something about this part of it that makes him feel safe. 

It’s the combination of induced release and praise that lets Noah relax so completely, and he sighs again as he moves his head against Finn, nudging him slightly. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anything you need,” Finn promises. “Any time.”

 

**November 27, 2031**

Kurt would be lying if he were to claim that no part of him is looking forward to Carole’s reaction to the upcoming addition to her grandchildren, and the fact that Carole and Burt don’t join them to watch the parade due to the temperatures makes Kurt anticipate it a little more. 

“Are you ready?” he asks Audrey when he sees a taxi slowing down in front of the house. 

“Not like I can get around it,” Audrey say, putting her hand on the small curve of her belly. “I don’t think I could convince her it was the freshman fifteen.”

“A very localized fifteen,” Kurt agrees as Noah sits down beside him. 

“Finn’s letting them in,” Noah says. “Kids are all upstairs watching that movie we bought for them yesterday.” 

“Here we go!” Audrey says. 

“It’s good to see you,” Carole’s voice says. “And where is everyone?” 

“I’m sure they’re up in the living room,” Finn says. “You can head on up.”

“Strategically placed,” Noah whispers. 

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Carole calls just before she steps into the living room. “Sorry we missed the parade, but—” She stops in her tracks, staring at Audrey, and Kurt has to work to keep his face straight. “Audrey!” 

“Hi, Mom!” Audrey says, a big smile plastered onto her face.

“Audrey, are you— you look— you’re _pregnant_!” Carole exclaims, sounding horrified. 

Audrey folds both her hand on the top of her belly. “Yes, I am.”

“Well, honey, is this something we can talk about?” Burt asks. “Are you, you know… _involved_ , still, with the boy who did this?”

Finn starts to laugh and covers it poorly with a forced cough. “Sorry, just clearing my throat,” he says. 

“Maybe some water?” Noah says very blandly, and Kurt elbows him. 

“I wouldn’t say that ‘involved’ is the right word,” Audrey says. 

“What?” Carole says, looking even more horrified. “Did he get upset? Does he say it’s not his? Oh, Audrey, what are you going to do? You’ll need to transfer somewhere closer to home, of course.” 

“No, I’m sure I’ll be fine at Trinity,” Audrey says. “And paternity isn’t a question, don’t worry.”

“Can we at least speak with this boy?” Burt asks.

“Actually,” Audrey says, shining a beatific smile in Burt and Carole’s direction, “it’s Noah’s love child.”

Finn makes a strangled-sounding cough-laugh, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. Audrey turns the smile on him, beaming even more, which makes Finn completely lose it, coughing and laughing. 

“Audrey! Please stop kidding around and discuss this seriously,” Burt says.

“I’m serious. It’s Noah’s baby. Genetically speaking, anyway. Legally, she’ll belong to all three of them,” Audrey says. “So, you could actually say it’s Finn and Kurt’s love child, too.”

“It’s Finn’s Noahbaby,” Kurt says amusedly, and Noah nods, shrugging a little. 

“You— you three _roped her into_ being a surrogate so you could have another baby?” Carole says, glaring at Noah, then Kurt, and finally Finn. 

“They actually took me to a facility and had me brainwashed,” Audrey deadpans. “All that stark grey concrete and no windows. Very Kafka-esque.”

“Audrey,” Kurt says, stifling a laugh of his own. “There absolutely were windows.” 

“Hey, it’s still your new granddaughter,” Noah says with another shrug. 

“None of you thought this was something that should be discussed ahead of time?” Burt asks. “Audrey’s only nineteen, and this is a big decision!”

“Oops,” Audrey says. “Too late now, I guess.”

“We _did_ discuss it, and Audrey was free to discuss it with other people, which she—” Kurt starts to say.

“How can you be so flippant, Audrey?” Carole says. “This will be a part of your life _forever_. You’re going to just give up part of your college experience to pregnancy, and then give away your baby?” 

“She’s not my baby. She’s Finn, Kurt, and Noah’s baby. I’m not giving her away, I’m having her for them,” Audrey says. “And I’m not being flippant about it. I’ve been seeing this great counselor for birth mothers and surrogates. Her office is just off campus. It’s been a really positive experience for me so far.”

“You should have mentioned this to us before you decided,” Carole says. “We’re your parents. This isn’t something temporary like a haircut. I’m sure you haven’t thought through all the implications. And the three of you! Manipulating your sister!” 

“You mean so you could tell her a lot of reasons not to do it, and try to sway her opinion?” Kurt asks Carole, raising his eyebrow.

“I wasn’t manipulated. They encouraged me to do my own research and make my own choice, and I did!” Audrey says.

Burt frowns. “Kurt, Audrey, please don’t speak to Carole in that tone of—”

“Actually, Burt,” Finn says, interrupting. “Mom shouldn’t speak to us or Audrey like that. Audrey is an adult, and so are the three of us, and it’s not ok for you to speak to other adults like that in our home.”

“You kept them away from me for two years, Mom, or tried to, at least,” Audrey says. “Sorry if I don’t trust your judgment where they’re concerned.”

Carole looks taken aback for a moment, then glares again. “I suppose you’re going to give this baby the same long last name, too,” she says with a huff. “Finn, you and Kurt aren’t married. That’s why _Audrey_ has a hyphenated last name.” 

“I have a hyphenated name, too,” Finn says. “Legally.”

“Since when?” Burt asks.

“Since the same time as Noah and I,” Kurt says. “We’re all Hudson-Hummels.” 

“Excuse me?” Carole says. 

“Finn Hudson-Hummel, Kurt Hudson-Hummel, and Noah Hudson-Hummel,” Finn says. “Oh, and Harvey Hudson-Hummel, too. No forward motion on Eliza or Charlie yet.”

“Mine’s the best,” Noah says. 

“You… that means people will _know_ ,” Carole says.

“Yes,” Kurt agrees. “That was part of the point. The press release also helped make that clear.” 

“It was a very nice press release. We had Quinn do it for us. I’m sure you remember Quinn,” Finn says. 

“Ugh. I have to pee _again_!” Audrey says as she stands up. “You can all carry on the drama without me for a few minutes.”

“People _know_?” Carole says, almost repeating herself. “Burt, they issued a _press release_.”

“Well, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say to all of this,” Burt says. He rubs his hand over his head. 

“Congratulations?” Kurt suggests, and Noah nods. “Don’t you think, Finn?” 

“We’re all really excited. Lucky number five,” Finn says. 

“Well,” Carole says stiffly, looking at Burt again. 

“Congratulations,” Burt says tentatively. 

“Thank you,” Kurt says. “Like Finn said, we’re excited. She’ll be here in February.” 

“What about Audrey’s classes?” Carole demands suddenly. 

“That’s not going to be a problem. Audrey’s doing great in all of her classes, and Kurt talked to the dean of… something,” Finn says, glancing over at Kurt. 

“The Dean of Students,” Kurt supplies, nodding. “They’re being very accommodating.” He doesn’t mention the generous donation that they made at the same time, and the implication that there might be an additional donation after Audrey’s graduation in a few more years. 

“That’s good to hear,” Burt says. “Seems like you’ve got this all planned out.”

“Audrey has a very nice professor for her adviser, too,” Kurt says. “Unlike Dr. Baldwin from the spring semester.” 

“I still want to debate him on digital media,” Noah says. “But yeah, Audrey’s got a good plan in place.” 

“Did you three tell her not to tell us?” Carole says, looking around to see if Audrey’s there. “I can almost accept asking her, but why did you have her keep it from us?” 

“Can anybody keep Audrey from doing what she wants?” Finn asks. “Come on, Mom. You’ve met Aud, right?”

“Audrey’s always been a very well-behaved child,” Carole says indignantly. 

“She’s not actually a child,” Kurt notes. 

“Yeah, and I’d go with ‘sneaky’ over ‘well-behaved’,” Finn says. 

“Finn! You shouldn’t say that about your sister!” Carole says.

“What’s he saying about me?” Audrey asks as she walks back into the room. “Finn, are you saying terrible things?”

“I said you were sneaky,” Finn says.

“Oh, that’s not terrible. That’s just true,” Audrey. 

Noah grins. “She takes after her older brothers.” 

Burt sighs. “Well, there’s no arguing with that one.”

 

**February 9, 2032**

Noah spends the entirety of the last performance of _Milk_ backstage, leaning against the wall and watching it. When the curtain calls are complete, or Noah thinks they’re complete, a hand pushes against his back from behind, and Kurt stumbles forward a little as well. 

“Get out there,” Angela says from behind them. “It’s the only curtain call the three of us are going to get.” 

Noah looks at Kurt, who looks as surprised as Noah, and they join hands as the cast parts. Noah decides in that moment, he definitely made the right decision about not performing professionally beyond their concerts with the Chorus. Eventually, they reach the front of the stage and Angela gestures for them to keep standing there. 

Suddenly, Noah sees Finn approaching from stage left, two large bouquets in his arms, and a big grin on his face. When he reaches Kurt and Noah, he hands a bouquet to Kurt, giving him a kiss, then turns to Noah to do the same. 

“Very tricky, darling,” Noah says. 

“I can be sneaky, too,” Finn says proudly. 

“You going to take a bow, too?” Noah asks. “What was that Tony you wanted? Most Likely to Fuck the Writers?” 

“Something like that,” Finn says, taking a bow, much to the delight of the members of the audience who clearly know who they all are, or at least, who watch the Tonys with some regularity. 

“Thank you, darling,” Kurt says, the three of them stepping back slightly as the curtain starts to fall. It takes a good forty-five minutes for them to get out of the theatre, and even longer to get through the crowd, because apparently on closing night, even the writers are worth getting autographs from. Finally, they get free, walking towards 7th Avenue. 

“Late night meal?” Noah suggests. 

“Sounds good to me,” Finn says. “Last one we might have out of the house for a while.”

“We’ll send Audrey out with instructions to enjoy herself in our stead,” Kurt says. “What about that new place with the ’50s decor?” 

“Even the ice is period-accurate, which is kind of weird,” Noah says. “But then, we also don’t have a show of _Milk_ playing Wednesday, which is also kind of weird.” 

“You had a good run,” Finn says. “Now we can all focus on more important things, like my Noahbaby.”

“We _do_ get to hold this one on occasion,” Kurt says as they turn the corner. “And not just when you’re asleep.” 

“I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I’d made any kind of crazy agreements like that,” Finn says. 

“We temporarily transformed into a democracy and held a vote,” Noah says. “Two is still more than one.” 

“Then I’ll have to stage a coop,” Finn says.

“Finn, darling, you have a PhD,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “You know it’s not ‘coop’.” 

“Yes, Dr. Hudson-Hummel, remember that,” Noah says, grinning and then opening the door at the ’50s place. 

Finn grins. “I’m still pretty sure it has something to do with chickens, anyway.”

“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure you just wanted one of us to call you Dr. Hudson-Hummel,” Noah says. 

“That may also be true,” Finn says. 

“Well, then, Dr. Hudson-Hummel,” Kurt says, “will you buy two people who just closed their show a drink?” 

 

**February 14, 2032**

Audrey spends the last week of her pregnancy at the Hudson-Hummel house in the City, sleeping in the guest room, so she won’t have to take a train while in labor. Finn checks his phone every five minutes while he’s at the office, even though he knows Noah and Kurt are both home with her, and sure enough, at three days past Audrey’s estimated due date, he gets a text from Kurt that Audrey’s in labor.

“Heidi, call all my afternoon appointments to reschedule for next week,” Finn says as he’s heading out the office door.

“Baby?” Heidi asks.

“Yes! I’ll have five kids next time you see me!”

Finn’s on the train heading home when he gets a second text: _Meet Beth at Penn Station, Acela Express_. Finn texts back his _ok_ and stays on the 1 to Penn Station. He gets there fifteen minutes before Beth’s train, so he’s waiting when she exits, pulling a small rolling suitcase and carrying a purse that’s almost as big.

“Hey, Beth!” Finn says, reaching for the rolling suitcase.

“Hi! Baby time!” Beth says, giving Finn a hug. “Which one of them sent you and forgot I can navigate the city, considering I’m almost twenty-two?”

“I won’t name names, especially if the name is ‘Kurt’,” Finn says. “Are you ready to meet your new sister?”

“I love non-traditional families. My friend Sondra was trying to explain where I was going to another friend of hers, and she just gave up after ‘her best friend’s giving birth to her sister’,” Beth says matter-of-factly. “Audrey was still texting me pretty regularly the whole way here, though, so I guess it may take a little while.” 

“Hannah never had that much time for texting,” Finn says. 

“Didn’t it take a long time for _you_ to be born?” Beth asks. “I know _I_ was fast, at least.” 

“Yeah, Mom was in labor with me for like two days or something,” Finn says. “Then Aud almost fell out!”

“Well, if it takes Audrey a while, we can blame your mom’s side,” Beth says with a grin that looks so much like Noah’s that it makes Finn laugh.

“Hopefully it’ll be pretty quick. I don’t think Aud’s really on board for two days.”

When they get back to the house, Beth taps lightly on the guest room door, then disappears into the room for the next three, three and a half hours, while Finn, Noah, and Kurt try to keep themselves distracted upstairs. They feed the kids dinner—probably their last dinner as a family of seven—and get Nova through her bath and into bed. The Peas are still up, quietly talking in their room, and Eliza is in the living room reading with Safiya for company when Beth comes up into the room.

“I think now’s a good time to head to the birth center,” Beth says. “Audrey could use the reassurance, if nothing else.” 

“Ok, let’s get going,” Finn says. He gathers up coats for everyone, and between the four of them, they manage to get Audrey into a taxi pretty quickly.

“This doesn’t feel anything like holding an ice cube,” Audrey grumbles. “That book was stupid.”

“Why would you hold an ice cube _there_?” Noah asks Finn quietly, sounding horrified. 

“Oh my god, Papa,” Beth says, shaking her head. “In her _hand_.” 

“That makes even less sense!” Noah says. 

“It’s because the stupid book is stupid,” Audrey says. 

“That’s right, Aud. It’s stupid,” Finn says sympathetically.

“Don’t talk,” Audrey says, closing her eyes as she obviously has another contraction. 

Luckily, they get to the birth center quickly, though there’s a little bit of a dust up when the person at the front desk says something about there usually being just two. Two of _what_ , Finn isn’t sure, since it could be dads or labor support people or something. Either way, Kurt quickly rips the person a new one, and they’re all directed towards a room in short order. 

The midwife checks Audrey, while Noah and Kurt dramatically avert their eyes, then announces Audrey is at four centimeters. 

“Four?” Audrey says. “Check again. I have to be at six at least!”

“Four is good,” Beth says. “Remember, that means you’re officially in active labor.” 

“Nooo, I need to be at six,” Audrey say, as she starts to have another contraction. 

“You’ll be at six within a few hours,” Beth says, then mouths “Four is a few, right?” at the three of them. 

“Right!” Finn says. “You’re doing great, Aud.”

“I want Mom,” Audrey says. She had spent the last few months of pregnancy insisting she wasn’t going to be ‘one of those people who need their moms in labor’, but Hannah had told Finn she was pretty sure Audrey would change her mind. 

“I can let Dad know,” Kurt offers quietly. 

“Yeah, Mom’ll be able to get here pretty fast,” Finn says. Kurt leaves the room, and Beth gives Audrey something to drink from a big plastic cup with a bendy straw. “You’re doing great, Aud.”

“No talking, Finn,” Audrey says.

“Ok. Sorry.” He looks at Noah and gives him an ‘oops’ face. Noah shrugs. Kurt comes back in after about five minutes, and the three of them sit silently while Audrey grimaces and scowls through more contractions over the next couple of hours. 

Eventually, Beth takes Audrey into the bathroom to pee, and Finn turns to Noah and Kurt. “Hannah was always so happy while she was having babies,” he says. 

“Yeah, but Hannah would already be done by now,” Noah says. “She’d be having her steak dinner.” 

“Rachel’s went faster, too,” Finn says. He lowers his voice even more. “Do you think something’s wrong?”

“Rachel would have been yelling about vegan food by now,” Kurt says. “I think Audrey’s just having a longer labor. Maybe the baby was holding out for Valentine’s Day and doesn’t realize it’s past midnight.” 

“Where’s Mom? Why’s it taking her so long?” Finn asks. 

“When I talked to Dad, she was already in bed asleep,” Kurt says. “He was going to wake her and have her get ready, plus the hotel isn’t that close.” 

Before Finn can say anything else, Audrey and Beth come shuffling out of the bathroom. Finn grins at her as she climbs back into the bed and rolls onto her side.

“How’s my favorite sister?” he asks.

“No talking. You’re the _worst_ ,” Audrey says miserably. 

“Sorry,” Finn says. 

“Why is everybody so happy?” Audrey asks Beth. “They’re all the worst.”

Beth nods sympathetically while Audrey lists all the ways in which every person and every thing is the worst ever, which goes on for over ten minutes, until Carole finally arrives. She goes straight to Audrey and whispers something to her, then quietly asks Beth a question. After Beth responds, Carole nods and turns towards the three of them. 

“Why don’t you go get some Gatorade for Audrey and some coffee and breath mints for Beth and I?” she says. 

“Can I stay?” Finn asks. 

“No. You’re the _worst_!” Audrey says. 

“Ok, I’ll go do that, then,” Finn says, standing up and heading out the door. Kurt and Noah follow him, and when they get a little bit down the hall, Noah looks over his shoulder. 

“Maybe we should tell Beth to text us when she hits eight or something,” he says. 

“Am I really the worst?” Finn asks. 

“No, you’re just the happiest,” Kurt says. “And Audrey is in labor.” 

“She’ll be happier after she gets Gatorade. And gives birth,” Noah says. 

“I hope so,” Finn says. They buy Audrey’s Gatorade and bring it back up to the room, where they find Beth in the hall, walking Audrey up and down. 

“Finn, you have to come walk with me,” Audrey says. “That way if I don’t want to walk anymore you can hold me up.”

“Trade you,” Beth says.

Finn hands Beth the bottle of Gatorade as he puts his arm out for Audrey to hold on to without slowing her pace. They walk up and down the hall together, stopping every few minutes for Audrey to have a contraction, for what feels like hours. By the end, Audrey is almost hanging off of Finn’s arm, swaying with the contractions and then taking a deep breath before continuing to walk.

“You want to take a rest?” Finn asks.

“I want somebody to come check me,” Audrey says.

“Ok. I’ll walk you back to the room.”

“No, I want them to check me here so I don’t have to walk anymore,” Audrey says. 

“I can carry you to the room, then,” Finn offers.

“Ugh. Finn! Okay, I’ll walk,” she says, and apparently fussing at Finn gives her a second wind, because she walks back towards the room with a lot more energy than she’d had just a second ago. She actually hops back up onto the bed, looking pleased with herself when the midwife comes in to check her. 

“Finn,” Carole says, “give your sister some privacy!” 

“But baby stuff is so cool!” Finn says.

“You’re at seven centimeters,” the midwife says.

“Seven?” Audrey repeats. “Only seven?”

“That’s great progress,” the midwife assures her.

“No, it’s three too small!” Audrey says. “Beth, make her say it’s ten.”

“You don’t have an urge to push,” Beth says. “I think you’re doing great!” 

“Beth! Stop being so happy!” Audrey says.

Finn leans over to Noah and whispers, “Good. Beth’s the worst now.”

“Don’t whisper! You sound like bees!”

“Sorry, Aud,” Finn says. 

Audrey labors for another hour lying on her side on the bed, then she gets up to pee again and labors on the toilet for another hour, now really starting to get loud during her contractions. When Beth helps Audrey back to the bed, Audrey says, “Everybody go out but Finn!”

Everyone but Finn files quickly out of the room, and Finn moves to the chair near Audrey’s bed. “What’s up, Aud?”

“Will you be disappointed in me if I ask for some drugs?” Audrey asks.

“What? No. Of course not,” Finn says.

“Will Noah and Kurt?”

“No way, Audrey. We don’t want you to worry about that kind of stuff, ok?”

Audrey closes her eyes and breathes slowly as she has another contraction. Once it’s over, she asks, “Will Hannah?”

“Hannah’s babies came out in like an hour, Aud,” Finn says. “She’s not going to think any less of you if you feel like you need a break.”

“But even _Rachel_ didn’t have drugs,” Audrey says.

“Yeah, but Eliza was like the size of a hamster. That doesn’t count.”

Audrey starts to laugh, then she scowls at Finn. “Don’t make me laugh, buttface!”

“Yeah, I think you need to talk to Hannah less, not more,” Finn says. “But seriously, Aud, if you need a break, do what you’ve got to do, ok?”

“Mom didn’t need drugs with me, and I was a huge baby,” Audrey says.

“Yeah, but Dad needed them, probably,” Finn says, which makes Audrey laugh again, though the laugh gets cut off by another contraction. He sits silently until Audrey opens her eyes again. “Want me to snag somebody for you?”

Audrey nod. “I just want to sleep a little. I don’t want a needle in my spine or anything, but if I could just sleep a little, I’d be okay.”

“Ok, Aud. I’ll send Beth back in and find you a nurse or the midwife or something,” Finn says, patting Audrey’s hand.

“Thank you, Finn,” Audrey says. “You’re not really the worst.”

“Yeah, I know,” Finn says. “I’m your favorite brother.”

“Shhh, they’ll hear you!” Audrey whispers. Finn smiles at her and goes back out into the hall, sending Beth in, then he walks down to the nurses’ station to get somebody to go to Audrey’s room. Within twenty minutes, Audrey’s had a shot of something and is out like a light, stirring a little with contractions, but not really waking. Finn realizes that the sun is up.

“Can’t be long now, right?” he says to Kurt, while Noah dozes in a chair.

“Don’t jinx it,” Kurt says quietly. “Safiya checked in, they’ve already had breakfast.” 

“Good. Everybody’s doing fine?”

“I think the Peas and Nova are coloring pictures for the baby and Audrey, too,” Kurt says. “Eliza’s doing homework.” 

“Good,” Finn says. 

Audrey sleeps for another few hours, and when she wakes up, she wants to walk again. When the midwife checks her and says she’s at nine centimeters, Audrey just nods and grabs Finn’s arm to walk. Finn walks with her for a long time, then switches out with Beth and Carole. Noah’s awake, but Kurt is napping, and Finn goes down to get coffee for everyone but Kurt and Audrey. By noon, though, Audrey’s contractions seem to get a little different, and when she hangs onto Finn’s arm during one, he realizes she might be pushing. 

“Aud? Should I get the midwife?” Finn asks.

“Don’t. Talk.”

Finn waits for Audrey’s contraction to finish, then he says, “I think that was pushing.”

“Don’t tell on me!” Audrey says.

“I can get the midwife,” Finn says. 

“Shhh. Just walk,” Audrey says, so Finn keeps walking, stopping every minute or so for Audrey to definitely, one-hundred-percent have a pushing-type contraction. Finn thinks maybe this would be a good time for the midwife, but every time he starts to say something, Audrey glares and says “shhhhh” again.

To be fair, they end up doing the walk-push-walk thing for over an hour, when Audrey’s water finally breaks in a big gush all over Finn’s shoes.

“Can I tell on you _now_?” Finn asks.

“Ugh. _Fine_.” Audrey rolls her eyes at him. “Walk me back to the room, tattle-tale.”

“Audrey’s water broke on my shoes,” Finn announce as they arrive back at the room. 

“I want to get in the tub,” Audrey says. “Somebody put water in the tub!”

“I thought you’d forgotten about the tub,” Beth says as Carole walks towards the tub.

“I didn’t want to be wet before, and now I do,” Audrey says. “I want to get in the tub and push out this baby, and then I want to eat ten baked potatoes, fully loaded.”

“Yeah, she’s kind of been pushing for the last hour plus,” Finn admits. 

“No steak?” Noah asks. “We can’t buy you wine.” 

“Potatoes. All the potatoes,” Audrey says, then she grabs the rail on the bed and leans forward a little. “Oh shit, shit, shit.”

“I’ll get the midwife,” Finn says. 

“Already hit the call button,” Beth says. 

Kurt stretches and then opens his eyes. “Baby time?” 

“Her water broke and she’s pushing,” Finn says quietly. 

The next twenty minutes are a blur, as the midwife comes in and checks Audrey—definitely at ten, baby well engaged—and they move Audrey into the birth tub. There’s pushing and towels and heart tones being checked, and then the midwife asks who plans to catch the baby.

Kurt and Noah point at Finn, and Noah says, “That would be Finn.” 

Finn raises his hand. “That’s me.”

“Then come on over here,” the midwife says. “She’s making progress.”

“Don’t forget to take your shirt off,” Kurt says. 

“Don’t take your shirt off!” Audrey says. “It’s weird!”

“Hey, you, go back to pushing!” Finn says.

“Are you the one pushing? If not, then stop talking about it!” Audrey says.

Finn laughs as the midwife checks Audrey again. “Still making good progress,” she says.

“Ow,” Audrey says. “Ow, ow, ow, ow what’s happening?”

“She’s crowning,” the midwife says. “Want to reach down and feel?” Audrey shakes her head and bears down again. 

“Owwww, why’s it taking so long?”

“Two steps forward, one step back,” the midwife says.

“If this goes on too much longer, she’s going to be taking steps out of me,” Audrey says. “Ow, ow, how long does this part go?”

“You’re doing great. Her head is almost out,” the midwife says. “Just keep taking deep breaths and push when you feel the urge.”

“Guys, I can see her head,” Finn stage-whispers. 

“Ow, ow, shit, shit, shit!” Audrey says, then she gives a loud grunt and pushes again. 

“The head is out!” the midwife announces. “Ok, Finn, you can just put your hands right here. Remember to bring her above the water right away.”

Finn nods, because he’s practically a pro at the baby-catching thing at this point, and kneels at the end of the tub, putting his hands out, one of them under Fiver’s head. Audrey keeps pushing, and Finn watches Fiver’s head rotate around, then with another few pushes, one shoulder, then the other comes out, then the rest of her in a quick, final push. Finn grabs her securely and lifts her up above the water.

“Oh my god, she’s here!” Finn says. “Oh my god, Noah, she looks just like you!”

“Your Noahbaby,” Kurt says. “Is she awake?” 

“She is! Aud, you did it!” Finn says. 

Audrey nods her head and waves tiredly, then the midwife cuts the umbilical cord and hands Finn a blanket for Fiver. He drapes it over her, walking over to Noah and Kurt.

“What do you think?” Finn asks, turning her towards them. 

“Oh, she is a Noahbaby,” Kurt says, laughing. 

“I don’t see it,” Noah insists, but he’s grinning. “Hey, little girl.” Fiver makes a tiny noise and Noah laughs. “Or kitten.” 

“She does sound like a kitten,” Finn says. “Well, we’ve got five kids now.”

“How is she?” Audrey calls out. 

“Happy,” Kurt answers. “And very quiet.” 

“That’s great. Who’s getting me my potatoes? Oh, and I want a cake. A whole cake, not just a slice!”

“I will,” Beth says, and Noah hands her some money. “Two cakes, maybe. One for the rest of us.” 

“Uh-huh. That’s fine!” Audrey says.

Fiver makes another kitten noise, and Finn smiles down at her. “I think she’s getting a little impatient with me here. Everybody, this is Leaf Ellis Hudson-Hummel, but you can call her Fiver.”

“Leaf is shorter to learn to write,” Noah says quietly to Fiver. “Tell Dad Leaf is shorter.” 

“Tell Papa that Fiver is better,” Finn whispers. 

“Yes, they really are this ridiculous sometimes,” Kurt says, holding out his arms expectantly. Finn sighs, then hands Fiver over. Kurt only has her for a moment before Fiver lets out a loud, ripping toot that clearly indicates pooping. 

“That’s my girl,” Finn says. 

 

**June 2032**

“Oh, Mom stuck some papers in my backpack right before I left,” Eliza says to Noah on Sunday evening. “I think she wants me to fill them out? Or one of you. I mean, she said Dad, but any of you.” 

Noah nods, turning the page on Eliza’s music for her. Rachel’s insistence on seeing Eliza every other Sunday lately is annoying, but Noah assumes it will taper off again, probably once summer really gets going. When Eliza finishes practicing, she digs the papers out of her backpack and hands them to Noah before starting to put her cello away. 

Noah frowns as he looks at the papers, then snorts. “She’s concerned about your religious experiences, sweet potato.” 

“What?” Eliza looks confused. 

“It’s registration paperwork for you to do your bat mitzvah at her temple,” Noah says. 

“But I’m already doing everything at CBST,” Eliza says. “That doesn’t make any sense.” 

“One of us’ll talk to her in a couple of weeks. Don’t worry about it,” Noah says, shaking his head. Of course Rachel would assume that her temple was the only place in the city someone could have their bat mitzvah. 

That’s all that Noah thinks of it, except mentioning it to Finn and Kurt once, a couple of days before Eliza’s supposed to go visit Rachel again. Even at twelve, she usually travels on her own, but Noah rides the train with her this time, meeting up with Rachel at a coffee shop near her apartment. 

“Oh. Noah,” Rachel says, looking startled. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” 

“We just thought it’d be better if one of us gave these back to you,” Noah says, handing Rachel the still-blank forms that she’d foisted on Eliza two weeks earlier. 

“They’re still blank.” Rachel’s nostrils flare. “I can’t believe that you three would deny Eliza the—”

“Mom,” Eliza interrupts Rachel. “I’m doing my bat mitzvah at CBST. You could have just asked.”

Rachel looks like she’s smelled some sour milk, which is how she always looks about CBST, and she barely glances at Eliza before glaring at Noah. “I know that you probably don’t really comprehend how important this day is, Noah, and that’s not your fault, since you didn’t have a bar mitzvah, but I really must—”

“Whoa, hold up,” Noah says, crossing his arms. “First of all, I had a bar mitzvah. Second of all, it’s supposed to be about signifying her responsibility, so I think she can choose where she wants to do it and in which community.” 

“I— I had no idea you had had one,” Rachel says stiffly. “And I suppose if that’s what _Eliza_ wants.” She doesn’t seem to know what else to say, which means that she either thought they would fill out the forms without complaint or try to complain about Eliza having a bat mitzvah at all, Noah assumes. The idea that Eliza would already be working steadily towards her bat mitzvah on her own didn’t seem to have occurred to Rachel, and she leaves with Eliza pretty rapidly. 

“Bye, sweet potato!” Noah calls after her. “See you at home!” 

“Bye, Papa!” Eliza calls back over her shoulder with a wave, and the way Rachel stiffens her back makes the entire encounter something of a win. 

 

**July 2032**

Kurt doesn’t hear most of Noah’s conversation with Beth, because one of the Peas needs help with homework and Finn’s already feeding Fiver and helping Eliza with hers at the same time. He does hear Noah start to ask about the end of the semester and the details about commencement, so when Noah looks a little wild around the eyes after the conversation, Kurt’s first assumption is that Noah’s just realized his oldest is going to be a college graduate. 

It’s bedtime, though, and the three of them spend the next almost-hour getting everyone in bed, which means it’s a couple of hours before they end up upstairs, and Noah _still_ looks a little shocked. 

“Did he say anything to you yet?” Kurt asks Finn quietly while Noah takes his turn in the bathroom. 

“No, I thought maybe he’d told you what was up,” Finn says. “What did she tell him?”

“I only heard him asking about commencement, but surely graduating wasn’t that big of a surprise,” Kurt says.

“You don’t think something’s wrong with Beth or Shelby, do you?”

“He doesn’t really look worried, at least.” 

“Are you going to ask him?” Finn asks. 

“If he doesn’t bring it up. We have been busy the past few hours.” 

Noah comes back from the bathroom then, but he doesn’t say anything until they’re all lying in bed. “She’s getting _married_.” 

“Beth?” Kurt asks, just in case it’s Shelby, and Noah nods. 

“Nah, I bet you misunderstood her and it’s Shelby,” Finn says. 

“I’m pretty sure it was her, since she was talking about buying a dress and everything,” Noah says, shaking his head. “At the end of July.” 

“It’s already April,” Kurt says. “That’s fast.” 

“But she’s not old enough to get married!” Finn says. 

“Yeah, I tried that argument,” Noah says sheepishly. “And she informed me that she’ll be twenty-two, which is apparently a higher number than twenty-one.” 

“I suppose she would know about numbers, with all of those economics classes,” Kurt says. 

“But _we’re_ not old enough for her to get married!” Finn insists. “We have a baby! A baby that’s Beth’s sister.”

“I pointed that out, too, and she just laughed and asked me if I felt old. I told her actually, yes, I did.” 

“But we’re not old, are we?” Finn asks. 

“I just know I feel older than I did this afternoon,” Noah says, shaking his head slowly. 

“Me too,” Kurt admits wryly. 

“I bet Audrey already knew about this,” Finn says. “I’m calling her first thing in the morning.”

“Probably,” Noah says. “So we’re going to DC at the end of July. She’s getting married at the Jefferson Memorial.” 

“On the steps? Or just nearby?” 

“The West Lawn, apparently,” Noah says, shrugging. 

Beth’s wedding is the first trip they take with all of the kids with Fiver, too, and they wake up earlier than usual to make sure everyone is dressed and ready for the 10 am wedding. It’s already warm when they arrive at 9:30, so the choice of morning is probably wise, Kurt suspects. 

The Peas immediately rush Audrey, who is already in her maid of honor dress, flowers in one hand. She laughs and pulls out two flowers, sticking one in Charlie’s hair and the other behind Harvey’s ear. Once the Peas release her, Audrey hugs Eliza, gives Nova a kiss, and then plucks Fiver out of Finn’s arms.

“I’m allowed to hold her,” Audrey says, when Finn looks like he’s about to protest. “I baked her for nine months, and now I get to look at how cute she is.”

“He pouts when anyone else holds her,” Kurt says. “Sometimes we distract him to get a turn.” 

“Your Dad is baby-greedy,” Audrey says to Fiver, who smiles at her. “Yes, he is!”

“She’s not exactly wrong,” Noah says to Finn. 

“Nobody wants to hear it, old man,” Finn says. 

“I’m not even forty!” 

“And you’re going to have a son-in-law in thirty minutes,” Finn says. 

“You’re enjoying this,” Noah grumbles. “Which one of you told the Peas?” 

“Why do you think someone told the Peas?”

“Because they keep telling me I must be getting old!” Noah says. “I’m not even going grey or anything.” 

“It doesn’t seem quite fair, actually,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “You look the youngest, still.” 

“I’m going grey,” Finn says. “I think it makes me look awesome.”

Noah shrugs. “I like it.” 

“Ew, stop it, you three,” Audrey says, bouncing Fiver in her arms a little. “Your dads are so gross, Fiver. Sooo gross.”

“Is that our cue to sit down and keep Noah calm?” Kurt asks her. 

“Yes,” Audrey say, then she sighs. “Okay, which one of you gets the baby?”

“Me,” Noah says quickly. “She makes me look younger.”

 

**September 2032**

“Syd, some of the people from the ACLU in D.C.,” one of the other conference attendees says, and Syd puts on her best professional smile, offering her hand and introducing herself to each of them in turn. 

“Syd Beckett, Lambda Legal,” starts to feel like the only words she says, the first day of any conference, though sometimes she clarifies with an additional “national office.” The Lavender Law Conference is probably her favorite of the four to five she gets sent to, at least. 

“Mateo Ortiz,” the first of the three introduces himself, but then he slips away with one of Syd’s colleagues. “Rebecca Jefferson” has a firm handshake but is also quickly drawn away, leaving Syd with the remaining ACLU lawyer just before the session is set to begin.

“Blaine Anderson.”

Syd starts, though she’s not entirely sure why, and they file into the room. It’s a smaller session, meaning they’re arrayed around three conference tables, and Syd sits down to the left of Blaine Anderson of D.C. ACLU. “That name sounds familiar,” she admits. “You don’t look familiar, though.”

Blaine Anderson chuckles. “That’s not something I hear often,” he says. “I more often hear that I look like someone that someone else knows.”

“Have you been with the ACLU long?”

“No, I tried corporate law for several years, then did a year of public defense.” Blaine Anderson looks rueful. “Then I realized that I was spending my spare time following the types of cases that the ACLU is litigating, so I made another switch. What about you, have you been with Lambda Legal long?”

“My entire career,” Syd confirms. “They hired me out of Yale.” 

“Yale, very nice.” Blaine Anderson looks suitably impressed, and wherever he went must not be as impressive, because his next question is, “Are you originally from the Northeast?”

“Midwestern girl, actually.” Syd jumps when her phone chimes, and checks her message before setting the phone down. 

“Oh, what a cute baby. Is she yours?” One of Fiver’s newborn pictures is her current background and lock screen, and Blaine Anderson glances at it with an appropriate appreciation of Syd’s niece. 

Syd laughs. “No. Ohh, no. That’s my best friend’s youngest. And I think they’re finally done.” She pauses. “Do you have children?”

“My husband and I adopted our son last year.” Blaine Anderson looks curious. “Finally done? I’m sorry, I’m being intrusive.”

Syd waves her hand dismissively, having finally surrendered to the fact that she’s picked up mannerisms from not just Finn, but Kurt and Noah as well. “It’s fine. They have five.” She picks up her phone, looking for the picture of Finn with Fiver just a week ago. “There, that’s just him and the baby.” 

Blaine Anderson stares at the picture, an odd look on his face. “This is your best friend?”

Syd does some quick mental calculations, based on what Blaine Anderson said and how old he looks; it’s possible that he is the right age to remember when Finn was playing. “Yes, that’s Finn.”

“Does…” Blaine Anderson trails off and looks sheepish. “Does he have a brother named Kurt?”

“A broth— _oh_.” Syd almost laughs. “That’s where I’ve heard the name. _Blaine Anderson_. You’re the high school boyfriend. Something about raising your glass to get into skin-tight jeans.”

“What?” Blaine Anderson looks confused. “I mean, yes, I dated Kurt in high school, briefly.” He pauses. “You know Kurt as well? How is he doing?”

“You don’t keep up with musical theatre any more, do you?” Syd asks, already knowing the answer before Blaine Anderson sheepishly shakes his head. She picks her phone up again, scrolling until she finds the picture she’s looking for, and she places it in front of Blaine Anderson. “There, that’s all of them on Fathers’ Day.”

Blaine Anderson stares at the picture for a long moment, the look of confusion slowly ebbing. “They really do have five kids,” is what he finally says. 

Syd laughs. “Yes. They do. As far as professionally, Kurt and Noah have their musicals, and Finn has his practice as a therapist.” 

“Wow.” Blaine Anderson looks somewhat startled, still. “And… I’m not reading this picture wrong?” Syd doesn’t see that there’s any way to read it other than what it is, not with Noah perched on Finn’s lap, Kurt’s arms around both of them, and the kids looking as close as they can to being related to all three of them. 

“That’s the Hudson-Hummel clan,” Syd says with a small smirk. “They don’t get too much press these days, outside the theatre world, so it makes sense you wouldn’t necessarily have heard. I’m surprised, though, since there was the movie a few years back.” 

“Movie?” Blaine Anderson repeats. “I suppose I really have been out of the loop.” He looks sheepish again, chuckling self-deprecatingly. “I’ll have to look all of this up later. Oh! You did say you were from the Midwest!”

“Finn and I met in Madison,” Syd says, nodding. “Come to think of it, he did mention to me that time he saw you when he was traveling with the Singers.” Syd picks up her phone again, the picture of all eight of them leaving the screen and Fiver reappearing. “I’ll tell them later I ran into you.” Syd shakes her head. “After this session, maybe you can explain to me why they laugh about you and Katy Perry."

 

**December 2032**

When their revival of _Rent_ closes mid-December, it leaves them with four weeks before rehearsals or meetings start for their next project, and that feels a little odd to Noah, especially since the studio has a few piles of boxes of stuff waiting to move into the new theatre. Tuesday doesn’t feel any different than usual, and on Wednesday Noah has to meet with a few people about contracts, as well as making a few calls, but by Thursday mid-morning, there’s nothing that has to be done. 

“I think I’ll go do some Christmas shopping,” Kurt says a little after ten. 

“Good idea. I think I’ll let Safiya have a few free hours and take Fiver to Zabar’s with me,” Noah says, which is what he does. When they get back and put the food away, Kurt is still out, so Noah decides to take Fiver up towards Finn’s office, grabbing some Chinese on the way. 

“Hey, Heidi,” Noah says quietly. “Does he have a client right now?” 

“No, his last pre-lunch client left a few minutes ago,” Heidi says. “You can go on back.”

“Thanks,” Noah says, then turns to Fiver. “Let’s go see Dad for lunch!” He goes to the door and knocks, balancing the take-out and Fiver. The door swings open, Finn grinning on the other side of it, hands already outstretched for Fiver.

“Where’s my girl?” Finn asks. 

“I’m not sure if she was more excited about you or the takeout,” Noah jokes. 

“Kung pao baby,” Finn says, balancing Fiver on his hip. “This is a nice surprise.” He walks back to his desk and holds Fiver on his lap while he reaches into the bottom drawer and pulls out a bottle of scotch, pouring himself a very stiff drink before tucking the bottle away again. 

Noah frowns but shakes his head a little before Finn looks up, and he doesn’t say anything. “Feeling a little bit at loose ends,” he admits. 

“Yeah? Anything I can do?” Finn asks. 

“The older kids’ll be out of school part of the time, at least,” Noah says with a shrug. “I mean, it’s better than rehearsals this time of year.” 

“Right,” Finn says. He sips his scotch, then sets it down, reaching for the carton of kung pao chicken. 

“Anyway, K went to do some Christmas shopping. Fiver and I hit Zabar’s earlier.” 

“What’d you buy, number five? Did you buy some cookies?”

“Crackers. And she picked out the wine,” Noah says with a grin. “So if you hate it, don’t blame me.” 

“I bet Fiver’s taste in wine is the best,” Finn says. He eats a few bites of his Chinese food, alternating between that and his scotch. 

“How many clients do you have this afternoon?” 

“Whitford twins at one-thirty, older Torres boy at two-thirty, his brother at three-fifteen, then a parent interview at four-thirty,” Finn says. “Full day.”

“Maybe we’ll go bother Aunt Hannah, Fiver, and come back when Dad’s ready to go home. Does that sound like fun?” 

Fiver doesn’t express an opinion, other than to try to grab Finn’s chopsticks, and once they’ve finished with the take-out, Noah throws away the trash before scooping up Fiver, kissing Finn while he’s leaning over. 

“We’re off to go entertain ourselves,” he says with a laugh. 

“You two have fun,” Finn says. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

There are two kids waiting outside when Noah and Fiver walk back through, presumably the Whitford twins, and Noah pauses just outside the office to put Fiver’s hat back on. “We’ll figure out something to do with ourselves for a few weeks, right? Then we’ll have rehearsals.” 

 

 **June 2033**  
Eliza at thirteen realizes that her pattern over the years of voluntarily spending time with her mom, so that Charlie wouldn’t be forced to, has resulted in her mom thinking that Eliza enjoys spending time with her. She makes frequent references to their ‘mother-daughter excursions’ to everyone, including Jesse, and Eliza keeps a smile on her face as much as possible. 

Charlie’s dislike of their mom has only gotten worse over the years, and she spent weeks when she was seven trying to figure out a way that she could _not_ be related to their mom, and now at nine Charlie takes every opportunity to tell their mom that she wishes _she_ was a surrogate baby like the rest of her siblings. 

Their mom responds differently depending on whether Jesse is around or not, but Eliza knows that the more she can keep Charlie away from their mom, the better, which is why in mid-June, Eliza agrees to another one of her mom’s ideas for a ‘mother-daughter excursion’, this one around the theatres and clearly more about being seen than anything else. 

The first couple of hours pass pleasantly enough. Rachel is always willing to buy Eliza some clothes when they go shopping, and even though Eliza has plenty of clothes, it’s still fun to get Rachel to buy new ones. Then Rachel and Eliza go to lunch, and between their sandwiches and the dessert course—non-chocolate cheesecake, with raspberry sauce, so Papa would be appalled—Rachel wipes her mouth, sets down her napkin, and looks directly at Eliza, her expression changing. 

“Have you thought any more about The Herzl School?” Rachel says pointedly. 

“Mom, I like my school,” Eliza says, the same as she has for the past five months, whenever Rachel brings up the Jewish school in the Lower East Side that she really wants Eliza to attend for high school. “I like my friends, I like my teachers, and I like that it’s in my neighborhood.” 

“The Herzl School isn’t that far from my apartment, and it would be so good for you to have a more… rigorous religious education.” 

“I’m not Conservative, Mom, and I don’t want to go to a school named after the father of modern Zionism, either.” 

Rachel’s nostrils flare. “I don’t know what they teach at the farce that CBST is. Eliza, you _will_ be attending The Herzl School this fall. I’ve already paid your deposit and ordered your uniforms.” 

“What?” Eliza says loudly, and Rachel motions angrily for Eliza to lower her voice. “Why would you do that? I don’t want to go to a private Jewish school!” 

“You will go, and I’ll tell you exactly why,” Rachel says quietly. “Let’s talk about your sister.” 

“Which one?” Eliza says, even though she usually goes along with Rachel’s you-only-have-one-sister insistence. 

“Your _real_ sister. Charlotte. The things she says… well, she and her cousin are awfully close, aren’t they?” 

Eliza frowns. “Who?” 

“Harvey, Eliza. [Charlotte and Harvey have an unusually close relationship](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1aeW75bUufb2rLIFJ9Eq2eG_blnD0qCwmZxqDvdDPV-M/pub), and the things she’s said to Jesse and I… I’m not so sure that it wouldn’t be beneficial for you _and_ Charlotte to live with me and attend The Herzl School, actually. Clearly your father is unable to keep his daughter safe. Imagine if he had to answer truthfully how much he drinks, or in which bed Charlotte sleeps most nights?” 

“You wouldn’t,” Eliza whispers. She knows Rachel doesn’t even like Charlie; she’s known that as far back as she can remember. She also knows that Rachel thinks Charlie _should_ want Rachel’s approval, though, and the fact that she doesn’t upsets Rachel. Rachel doesn’t really want Charlie to live with her, but she wants to hurt her or punish her, and Eliza shivers. Charlie doesn’t even like when she has to spend two nights at Rachel’s, away from Harvey and away from home, and if Charlie had to spend most of the week there, Eliza knows it would break her and Harvey both. 

Eliza knows the stories about how Harvey was a fussy, colicky baby right up until the point that Charlie was born. Eliza knows that Rachel isn’t necessarily wrong about how close Charlie and Harvey are, but what does it hurt anyone? Even if they get older and get even closer, they’re not biologically related, and that’s enough for Eliza. Worse, though, Eliza thinks that Rachel might be somewhat right. Her dads, all three of them, are probably not fully aware of the fact that Charlie and Harvey sleep in each other’s bed some nights, and they don’t see the stubborn beginnings of jealousy in each of them at school. 

“There’s an easy solution to that,” Rachel says, a smile back on her face. “I’ve already made sure you could fit in both your cello studies and join the school’s chorus, and I think you’ll enjoy attending with students more appropriate to your family’s social status. It’ll be so much better for your cultural and religious needs, too.” 

“My religious needs _are_ met, Mom,” Eliza says, crossing her arms in front of her. 

“You just protested about attending a school named for Theodore Herzl!” 

“Jewish doesn’t mean Zionist.” 

“You shouldn’t listen to Noah so much,” Rachel says. “But as long as you don’t start some kind of anti-Zionist movement at Herzl, we’ll just not discuss it. Similar to how I won’t discuss your father’s drinking or Charlotte’s unnatural attachment to Harvey Hummel, once I know you’ll be attending Herzl and living with me.” 

“Hudson-Hummel,” Eliza says, gritting her teeth, and Rachel rolls her eyes, gesturing for Eliza to continue. Eliza fumes, weighing her options. For whatever reason, Eliza attending The Herzl School is very important to Rachel, so important that she’s willing to live with the consequence of Charlie living with her, if Eliza calls her bluff. 

Eliza knows her dads have Syd and Tina, but Eliza also knows that Charlie _has_ said things to Rachel and Jesse that some judges might not like to hear. She knows that Rachel could hire a lawyer to make it sound like Finn doesn’t do anything but drink. She knows that Rachel likes to get what she wants, and to some extent it’s been Eliza and Charlie’s good fortune that they haven’t been lumped in with what Rachel wants before now. Taking Charlie away from Harvey would break her. Taking Eliza and Charlie away from their dads would hurt their dads horribly. Maybe they’ll be okay if it’s just Eliza. 

“The school only,” Eliza finally says, her arms still crossed in front of her. “And I don’t have to tell my dads until mid-July.” 

Rachel almost smiles. “Herzl only will probably be okay,” she says. “We can revisit the question of where you’ll live later on.” 

Eliza swallows, grateful that the dessert arrives just seconds later. She has a month to figure out how to break it to her family. She has two months to figure out how to get to live at home even while she’s attending the Zionist school and listening to people there probably put down _her_ temple and _her_ branch of Judaism. Maybe if she goes to Herzl for a year, that will be enough to satisfy her mom.


End file.
